Hope for the Hopeless
by UniversalOverlordess
Summary: Sometimes, what we think we want is not always as great as it seems: In which a boy named Kurt, who wants to be able to feel but can't, meets a boy named Blaine, who can feel but wishes he couldn't.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: _**I do not own Glee

**_Medical disclaimer: _** I do not claim to be an expert on CIPA - all I know is what my research has taught me.

**_Warnings: _**mentions of blood, and of being beaten up. **_  
><em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Morning routine:<strong>_

6:00 AM - Wake up. (_in the morning, feeling like P. Diddy.)_

6:03 - check arms for bruises, cuts or swelling.

6:09 - sit up, check chest, stomach, legs and feet for swelling, bruises or cuts.

6:15 - head to bathroom: check face, neck, and entire back for swelling, cuts, bruises. Make sure eyes aren't bleeding. Check temperature.

6:20 - go to the bathroom.

6:30: - breakfast.

7:15 - check body once more.

7:35 – shower (make sure that the nob is turned to where the sticker has been placed so that it's not too hot or too cold. REMINDER: ask Dad to check again to make sure the water temperature is still the same.)

7:50 – get dressed. Check body – _again_.

8:15 – get taken to school.

_**REMEMBER: **_**Alarms on watch ready to go off every two hours. Make sure thermometer is in backpack. Make sure to check weather degrees during lunch to see if extra layers are needed, or if a layer needs to be taken off. **

{*}

He had an alarm set for for 9:05 that told him he needed to go to the bathroom.

Every two to three hours he had to go, to make sure that his bladder wasn't actually bursting even though he hadn't had much water this morning. While he was in the bathroom, he also had to check to make sure that he didn't have any cuts or bruising or swelling, make sure that he wasn't bleeding, before he could head back to class. He had to do this after he did _anything_. If he decided to go running one day, he'd have to check his entire body once he was done – for swelling, bruises, cuts. When he worked in the garage with his dad, he'd have to stop every thirty minutes to make sure he hadn't brushed up against something and been cut. Even after walking down the hall, he'd have to check; someone's clothes could have had something sharp in them and cut him, and if he didn't check, he'd never know.

That was just one of the problems with CIPA.

Kurt Hummel couldn't _feel_.

He couldn't sweat, or feel temperature. He couldn't feel it when he had been cut or had been slammed against the locker. He couldn't tell when he had to go to the bathroom, and he didn't know what it was like to cry because he couldn't. He didn't know when he was hungry, because when his stomach would cramp up because it needed to be full, he wouldn't feel it. _Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis, _his doctor had told him and his parents when he'd been first diagnosed. In a nutshell, the reason Kurt hated living a lot of the times.

He'd been beaten up before; a couple of boys who went to his junior high seemed to catch on to how he didn't feel anything when he was thrown against a row of lockers or tripped down the stairs and decided that he'd have to "have the pain beaten into him". He never screamed, didn't wince, and didn't feel any of the pain that each blows brought. He felt the pressure, but no pain; it terrified them into running away after a while, leaving him to stumble home on legs that were having trouble supporting him. He'd never forget the look on his dad's face when he walked awkwardly into the kitchen, covered in blood and dirt – his dad had never looked more terrified.

After being rushed to the hospital, he'd spent far too long in the E.R, getting X-rays, ultra sounds, MRI's – luckily his spinal nerve didn't have to be biopsied. Kurt had been taken home two weeks later with four broken ribs, arm, wrist, and ankle It was then that his dad decided that, yes, the teachers and faculty of the schools he went to _needed_ to know that he was sick.

The teachers of his high school school knew of his illness and were supposed to help look after him. When he was in class and his watch beeped the teachers knew to let him go and do what he needed to do. But today – today they had a substitute, who didn't know anything about him.

"Okay, class. Your teacher said that you had a test today, so no talking, no taking the hall pass – just take the test. You have until ten minutes until the bell rings to finish it."

He was strict from what he'd heard other kids say from when they'd had him in other classes. Strict was usually never good for him. He needed to be able to leave; his other teachers knew that. _Maybe he was left a note about me or... something_.

He could only hope.

He wanted to bite his lip and look down at his test, but he could bite his lip too hard and cause damage, and then he'd have to leave earlier than planned and _that _wouldn't be good, so instead, he just turned his attention to his test and started to work on question one.

Fifteen minutes into the exam, his watch went off, signaling that it was time to head to the restrooms. He put his pencil down and hesitantly raised his hand into the air. "Sir?"

The substitute didn't even look up from the book that he was reading. "There's to be no talking during the exam, young man."

Sighing, Kurt stood up and walked over to the teacher's desk. "Sir, I need to use the hall pass."

The man put the book down. "I've told you that no one is allowed to use the hall pass."

Kurt resisted the urge to wring his fingers; there was a change that he could bend one too far and that the bones could break. "D-did Mrs. Hanson leave a note for you about me?"

Frowning, the substitute shifted through the papers on the desk until he pulled out a bright blue sheet of paper. "This is to inform you that Kurt Hummel is the only exception to the no hall pass rule..." he read, frown growing deeper on his face the longer he read. Eventually, he put the paper down and glanced back up at Kurt. "Fine, you can use the hall pass. Make it quick though."

Sighing in relief, Kurt picked up the hall pass and headed out of the classroom, but not before he heard the substitute mutter, "...got a bladder problem or?" and the laughs of some of the students in the class. He resisted the urge to bite his lip and continued towards the bathroom, taking his time walking down the hall, careful of how he put his feet down on the ground; he was constantly monitoring every little movement that he made.

It was frustrating, but at the same time, he'd been dealing with it his entire life.

Sometimes, though, it got to him – the way he had to live his life was most certainly different from the way normal people got to live theirs. His life was full of, c_heck your temperature, Kurt, _and, _did you double check for signs of swelling or cuts?_ and, _this dance routine is a bit _too_ dangerous for you, I think. _Once upon a time, Kurt Hummel had had dreams and aspirations.

Now he thought the future looked bleak, and full of, _did you double check everything this morning after breakfast? That pan you were holding was still really hot, so you could have been burned_. Whenever he looked at his future, it looked hopeless.

He _felt_ hopeless a lot of the time, because there _was_ no future for him that existed beyond _make sure to double check, Kurt_.

The bathroom was, thankfully, empty when Kurt arrived. Not many students were out in the halls during this hour, because the teachers were more strict in the mornings. Glancing down at his watch, he stepped into a stall and began his nine in the morning ritual. Once he was done in the stall, he headed towards the sinks and turned the right knob a bit, just to get the water flowing. He couldn't tell if the water was cold or hot; he remembered watching a boy turn the left knob a bit, then yell out that the water was too "damn hot", so he didn't ever use the left knob. There was a chance that he could burn his skin and he'd never really know it.

Once he was done washing his hands he sighed, then glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. He turned his head to the side, then reached up and brushed his fingers over a small scar that he had on his neck. When he'd been two and learning how to control his limbs, he'd apparently scratched at that same spot until he ended digging into his skin – they'd rushed him to the hospital and that was when he'd been diagnosed as a CIPA patient, even though the signs had been there his entire life. They were lucky to have caught it before he did some serious damage, the doctor had told his parents. His case had brought up the number of CIPA cases in the US by one – from eighty four cases to eighty five. He became a number, in a way.

Sighing, Kurt shook his head, not wanting to dwell on sad thoughts. Puffing out his cheeks childishly, he proceeded to check his body for... _anything: _no bruises, no cuts, no swelling. Once he was done, he grabbed the hall pass and headed out of the bathroom.

He was halfway down the hall when he heard his name being called. Turning, he was greeted by Mr. Schuester, the Spanish teacher as well as his Glee coach. "Oh, hello Mr. Schue. How are you this morning?"

Mr. Schue nodded at him. "Good morning, Kurt. I'm well, thank you. Morning check ups?"

Kurt gave him a smile and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, a little later than normal because I have a sub for my class this morning. It took a while for him to let me out of class. We had a test," he added as an after though; he didn't want to get the substitute in trouble for doing his job.

He didn't really mind talking to Mr. Schue about his problems or discussing CIPA; Mr. Schue looked out for him, but he didn't hover, unlike a few of the school staff members did. Ms. Pillsbury, the school councilor, seemed to think that he was going to shatter if she looked at him. Mr. Schue walked closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "The substitute didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, my teacher left a letter for him informing him that I was allowed to use the hall pass."

"That's good. Are you still coming to Glee rehearsal today?"

Kurt nodded; Glee club was one of his favorite things to do during the week – it had been a chore to convince his father to let him join the club, but he'd relented, _only_ if Kurt informed the members of his condition. Kurt had reluctantly agreed; it had been embarrassing, but most of the time they treated him normal, like they would any other friend.

"I'm still planning on it. Unless I fall down the stairs," he joked.

Mr. Schue gave him a strained smile. "Well, I'll see you then, Kurt."

Kurt waved him off and then continued down the hall. Once he turned the corner, he started in the direction of his classroom, pulling out his phone to check to make sure his backup alarm was set for two hours later. He was still staring at his phone when he felt the shadow appear over him. He'd barely had time to look up before he was being roughly shoved into the row of lockers to his left. Pushing himself off of the lockers, he twisted around to see Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams laughing and clapping hands, each holding a hall pass in their hands. As he watched, Karofsky turned around and gave him a wink. Glaring, Kurt bent down and picked up the hall pass that had dropped out of his fingers, then groaned and headed towards the nearest bathroom to check his body for any damage.

_Again_.

{*}

"Alright guys, let's keep this up! The dancing is coming along _great_, now just remember the parts where you move and we'll have sectionals in the _bag._"

Sometimes, it was embarrassing having CIPA. One small thing could lead to something bigger – like a cut on a hand that went unwatched or unnoticed could lead to him having to have his hand amputated. A day spent out too long in the cold could lead to pneumonia. Waiting too long to go to the bathroom could lead to him wetting his pants. Or, a simple wrong turn during a dance rehearsal could lead to him tripping, hitting the piano and crashing to the ground, which always led to-

"Kurt, _don't move_, I'm going to call your father."

-people over reacting.

"Mr. Schue, I'm fine. All I need to do is check. This is small compared to other things, really."

Mr. Schue hesitated, but eventually let him stand up. "Finn," he said, pointing to Kurt as he headed out of the room. "Watch him. Make sure he doesn't move too much."

With a groan, Kurt tugged his arm out of Finn's grasp. "Finn, I'm fine. Really."

Finn looked unsure. "Kurt... I mean, you don't know that."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt ran his hands over his body, looking for blood. His hands were clean once he put them out for everyone to see. "See? No blood. No cuts. I'm _fine_."

"But... What about your bones, baby?" Mercedes asked softly.

With a frustrated groan, Kurt moved to sit down on one of the chairs. Maybe telling the Glee club about his condition hadn't been such a good idea after all. They constantly mothered him when he fell (it was just a _fall_), and as much as he missed his mom, he didn't need a whole load of them – Finn's mother had taken over that job once she'd started dating his dad.

"Guys, I'm _fine_. I just _fell_."

"Yeah, but you could have broken a bone or something. You fell awkwardly, dude, _and _you hit the piano," Finn said, moving to sit next to him. "What if your broke your prostate or something?"

Ignoring the sniggers around him, Kurt sighed. "One, I just _fell. _That's not going to break a bone. And two? The prostate _is not a bone_, Finn!"

Finn's mouth formed a rather impressive 'O' as he slumped in his seat. Groaning, Kurt ran a hand over his face, then rubbed at his eyelids. He didn't realize how hard he was rubbing them until he felt a hand grab his wrists and pull his hands away from his eyes. "No can do, Hummel," Puck said sternly. "That's _too_ hard of a rub."

Kurt pulled his hands out of Puck's grasp, then tilted his head up and opened his eyes wide. "They okay?"

Puck's eyes narrowed as he bent down slightly, staring intently at Kurt's eyes. "Good on the front set. Look to the right?"

Kurt obeyed, then again when Puck told him to look to the left.

"Eyes are good, Hummel. Nothing damaged that I can see."

"Thanks, Puck," he said, leaning back against his chair. Puck sat down on the other side of him, silent as Kurt watched his friends talk, standing in random parts of the room, enjoying themselves but still keeping an eye on him. "You guys have it so easy, you know?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Sure, because feeling pain is such a _wonderful_ thing."

Kurt glared at him. "Puck, you know what I mean. I'd rather be able to feel pain than have to live like I do."

Puck's shoulders rounded and he slumped forward, not answering back, causing Kurt to wait the next fifteen minutes it would take for his dad to speed to the school in silence.

His dad actually showed up twelve minutes later, stumbling into the choir room, panting slightly. "Kurt?"

Kurt put up a hand. "Hi, Dad."

His dad rushed forward, Mr. Schue following after him. "You okay? Checked and everything?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes, Dad. I'm _fine_."

His dad ignored him and turned around to Mr. Schuester. "How awkwardly did he fall?"

Mr. Schue frowned. "It _was_ a little awkward after he hit the piano. His hips kind of twisted in one direction and his upper body went in another."

"Dad?" Kurt said, reaching out to hold his dad's wrist. "I'm _fine_."

His dad looked back down at him, shaking his head. "You fell, _awkwardly_. You hit the piano. You know that we need to have you checked."

All Kurt could do was stare. Sure, he'd gotten used to his dad fussing over him, but lately he'd been _overly_protective, rushing Kurt to the hospital every time he fell or bumped into something. It was getting rather annoying. "Dad-"

"Don't 'Dad' me, Kurt. We're taking you to the hospital, end of story."

Sighing in defeat, Kurt nodded, then bent down to get his bag, only to find it gone. He looked up to see Finn holding it, a sheepish look on his face. "Finn, I can carry my bag."

"Not if something is broken, you're not," his dad said, holding his arms out.

Kurt stared at them for a quick second before he shook his head quickly. "I can walk, Dad. At least give me that."

"And what if your hip is broken or something?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and stood up, ignoring the spluttering from his dad, Finn, and the rest of the room. "Then I'll let you say 'I told you so' as _many_ times as you want, okay, Dad?" He said as he walked forward and yanked his bag out of Finn's grasp. "If we're going to have to go to the hospital, I'd like to keep some of my pride and walk in, okay?"

His dad sighed. "Okay, fine. You can walk."

Grinning, Kurt slipped his bag strap over his shoulder and headed out of the room. "Bye guys, I'll see you all tomorrow!"

"We're going over the harmonies for my big sectionals solo tomorrow, Kurt!" Rachel called out. "Make sure that you're here! I want to talk to you about the counter harmony that _I _think will fit wonderfully with your voice!"

Kurt slumped forward, then turned to look at his dad as they headed out of the choir room. "Please let the doctors say that I have a broken hip..."

{*}

Blaine Anderson loved his little sister; she was bright, spunky, and a stubborn little thing.

She also was the saddest thing to look at when she was hurt.

She was currently sitting on Blaine's lap, gripping the front of his jacket tightly as she bit her bottom lip, trying to not cry out. Her twin, James, was sitting next to her, holding her unoccupied hand in both of his, whispering softly to her, "It's okay, Kates. It's okay. You're gonna be okay, Kates."

Biting back a yawn, Blaine placed a soft kiss on her forehead, muttering, "They should call us back soon, honey."

She nodded against his chest. "Didja call mommy and daddy?"

Blaine let out a defeated sigh. "I did, but..."

Katie's frowned deepened. "They be busy, huh?" she said in a very soft voice, which caused James to lean up and press a kiss to her cheek. She giggled, but the cried out in pain as her leg moved.

James pulled back quickly. "I'm sorry, Kates! I didn't mean to hurt you more!"

"S'okay, Jamesie. I'm a strong girl, remember?"

James nodded, then curled up in his seat and wrapped his hoodie around his body tighter. Blaine watched them both, sighing when he realized that they needed their parents with them, not their older brother. But his parents couldn't be there, and (he thought to himself darkly), even if they _were_ able, he highly doubted they _would_ be there. His parents often seemed to forget about their children - not in the abusive way, but they just seemed to... _not care_ that often. Well, they cared about his older brother, seeing as Wendall had decided to go along with the plans his parent's had made for him.

But Blaine... Blaine was _gay_, he didn't want to be a lawyer, and he liked to sing, not study politics. Once his father had realized that Blaine wasn't going to become what he wanted, Blaine had become the after thought: "_These are my children, Katie, James, Wendall. Oh, and that's Blaine."_

_Maybe_, he thought to himself as he absentmindedly rubbed Katie's back. _Maybe if I couldn't feel I wouldn't care so much..._

Maybe.

His parents were out of the country on business. Well, his dad was out of the country on business; his mom had just decided to tag along, leaving Blaine to hire a nanny on short notice to watch his little siblings while he was at school. Normally, when their mother decided to travel with their father, Blaine's older brother, Wendall, would come down and stay with them, but he was busy with a high priority case and was unable to make it.

Today, the nanny had to leave a little early, which Blaine was perfectly fine with, but once he'd gotten home from Warbler's practice, he'd walked in to see Katie crying, lying at the bottom of the stairs with James trying his best to help her. She'd told him that she hadn't hit her head, but her entire leg was hurting really badly, and with the way that it was looking, Blaine had to admit to himself that it was broken.

He'd driven them to the ER, but the ER was low on staff that day and was backed up. They'd been sitting there for a good hour, and there was nothing that he could give Katie to ease her pain except hold her and tell her it would be okay. She'd fallen asleep for a good twenty minutes, which allowed Blaine to rest his eyes as well for fifteen minutes, having gotten only five hours of sleep the night before.

The council for the Warblers had decided on a late night rehearsal the day before, where they'd prepared viciously for Sectionals that were coming up – the council had been brutal, and Blaine had only been able to escape early because the nanny had to go home. He'd spent most of the night doing homework, and had fallen asleep at his desk, his head buried in George Orwell's _1984_.

Almost two hours into their wait, a boy with brown hair, pale skin, and a _very_ bored look on his face was pushed into the building in a wheelchair. His fingers were idly tapping the chair handles as he was pushed over to where Blaine was sitting with Katie and James, while a bald man in a flannel shirt marched up to the triage desk.

"Hi, my name's Burt Hummel, and I need to check my son in – yeah, that's him."

The boy next to him let out a sigh, and Blaine glanced at him through the side of his eyes. He was _incredibly_ good looking, even though he looked bored out of his mind. Blaine just watched him for a minute, before he realized that Katie was reaching out to the other boy. She placed a hand on his shoulder, then asked in a soft voice, "Mister? Why are you in a wheelchair?"

The boy turned to look at her, then his eye flickered up to Blaine; they widened for a split second before they dropped back down to Katie. He looked down at his body, then said, "I fell."

Katie's eyes widened. "Me too! I guess we're _both_ klutzes, huh?" She exclaimed, pointing down at her left foot. The other boy looked down at her foot before he whistled.

"That looks like it hurts!"

She nodded her head quickly, but before she could open her mouth to reply, James spoke up quickly. "She says that it _does_. Like, _really really_ badly! She was cryin' and stuff!"

"Ooh, I see! How long have you been waiting?"

James let out a humph sound. "A long, _long_ time, Mister."

Katie cocked her head to the side. "What's your name, Mister?"

The boy smiled. "Kurt."

_Kurt_.

Well, that was a really attractive name.

Katie giggled. "I'm Katie. And that's my brother, James; we're twins! And this guy," she said, smacking Blaine on his chest. "This bozo is my big brother, but not my biggest brother; his name is Blaine!"

Frowning, Blaine asked, "Why am I the bozo again?"

"'Cause you're just a bozo."

Blaine's frown deepened, but at least Katie wasn't focusing on the pain any more. Grinning, he turned to _Kurt_. "Well, hi. I'm Blaine, the bozo."

Kurt let out a small laugh. "I'm Kurt, the klutz."

As though remembering that he'd fallen, Katie asked, "Did it hurt like mine did?"

At that moment, a nurse walked out and hurried over to them. Thinking she was for them, Blaine shifted a bit, ready to stand up, but the nurse bent down in front of Kurt instead. "What happened this time?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt muttered, "I tripped during Glee rehearsal. My dad is overreacting, really."

Kurt's father appeared over the nurse's shoulder, a frown on his face. "According to his teacher he fell awkwardly, _and_ hit the piano, so I thought it would be best to bring him in."

Kurt let out an aggravated sigh. "Nurse Mandy, tell him he's overreacting, please!"

The nurse, Mandy, shook her head. "I'm afraid he's right, Kurt. I'm sorry. Those are the rules, you know."

Kurt let out an exasperated humph. "I know that, but I've been here so often – it's getting to be embarrassing."

Mandy gave him a soft, tired smile; Blaine felt like he shouldn't have even been hearing their conversation. "I know. I do, and I can't even _imagine_ what this is like. But you just have to keep moving on; that's how things work in life, right? Now, we've got a room ready for you, so we'll-"

To Blaine's surprise, Kurt shook his head. "No, the room isn't for me," he said firmly. Pointing back at Katie, he said, "They've been there for a long time, and the little girl can't be older than five. They need to go first."

There was a high chance that Blaine had just fallen in love with him. A very, _very_ high chance."R-really? But, you're in a wheelchair, and you said you fell, so-"

Kurt shook his head. "I can't feel the pain anyway – CIPA patient," he said stiffly, looking over his shoulder at Blaine. He had a small, sad smile on his face, one that made Blaine's heart break.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed as he thought. He knew a little bit about CIPA, having learned about it in his health class the previous year. It was an _incredibly_ rare disorder of the nervous system, which made the person who had it unable to feel pain, cold, heat or any other feeling related to the nerves. It was _horrible_, and there weren't many reported cases about it, because most of the people with the disorder died as a baby because their body overheated.

Opening his mouth to say that they really could wait (because if Kurt really had CIPA, then he didn't know if there was something wrong in his body – he _needed_ to be checked out – ), Blaine was cut off as the nurse sighed.

"Well, we have a double room, since you both need to be x-rayed, we can just put you in there. Is that suitable, Kurt?" She asked, a teasing tone hiding in her voice.

Kurt faked a sigh. "Well, I _suppose_." Grinning, he turned to look back at Katie. "We're going to be in the same room together!"

Katie giggle. "Yay! I like you; you have pretty eyes!"

Blaine had to agree with her there – Kurt's eyes were gorgeous, with the mixture of blue, green, and gray. He thought they looked like two galaxies. Giving Kurt a quick thank you, he stood up, holding Katie tightly in his arms as they followed the nurse into the room that they would be staying in. Once they were settled in the room, Blaine gently laid Katie on the bed and placed a blanket over the top of her body, avoiding her leg. Then he let James climb on the bed to lay next to her.

"The wait time for the x-ray rooms will probably take a while," Mandy said softly as she attached the necessary equipment to Katie's hand to monitor her breathing. "Do you want anything for the pain, honey?"

Katie nodded, and Blaine sat silent, watching as Mandy gave Katie a few small pills. Once she was done, she moved out of their area, then headed over to Kurt's, drawing the curtain closed as she went. Blaine leaned back in his chair and listened to Katie and James talk to each other softly; ten minutes later, all he could hear where their soft snores. As he listened he heard two sets of footsteps leave from over on Kurt's side of the room; he watched as the man that was Kurt's father leave the room with the nurse, and not even a minute later, the curtain was drawn back and Kurt sat up and smiled at him.

"So, Blaine the bozo, we've got some time. Wanna talk?"

Smiling, Blaine stood up from his chair and headed over to the vacant seat by Kurt's bed, thinking that this ER trip could turn out to be interesting. "What do you want to talk about?"

Kurt leaned back against the bed, grinning up at him.; he had an iv drip hooked up through his hand and was idly playing with the buttons next to the bed that allowed the bed to move up and down. He stopped once Blaine settled into the seat and then sat up fully, giving Blaine his full attention."Tell me why you're the bozo of the family?"

For some odd reason, Blaine could just tell that this was the beginning of a _beautiful_ relationship.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's notes:<em>** Hi.

I'm writing again! I have to say that it feels good; for a while I just lost motivation and felt like everything I wrote was absolutely horrible. BUT, then I watched _House_, the episode called _Insensitive_ where the girl has CIPA and my mind blew up with ideas. IT WAS AN EXPLOSION. EXPLOSIONS OF THE WRITING KIND ARE ALWAYS THE BEST KIND, YOU GUISE.

Huge, _huge_ thanks to my amazing friend, mrsharryjamespotter (icedintheveins) for being my beta - I love her; she's absolutely wonderful.

Anyway, please let me know what you thought! Reviews are my fuel, which I need seeing as I'm broke and have no food.

8D

Lots of love,

UO


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: _**I do not own Glee.

**_Medical disclaimer: _**I am not, in any way, an expert when it comes to the medical condition, CIPA. I only know what my research has taught me.

**_Warnings: _**No warnings for this chapter.**_  
><em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter two<strong>_

* * *

><p>Kurt had been to the ER hospital six times since the beginning of June.<p>

He was what the nurses and the staff members of the ER jokingly called a regular, but he wasn't looped in with the ones who came in only for the medicine. He'd been there so often that he'd learned every name and they knew what food to have ready for him down in the kitchens for when he ended up spending the night.

He almost knew the hallways by memory; new which hall would lead him to the cafeteria quicker, which bathroom was closest, which vending machine had the best snack, and which vending machine was broken so that he could get free snacks; free food _always _tasted better. Free things just made _everything _better. Just like illegally downloading TV episodes made him feel like the bad boy that he'd never be.

One hour after he'd been given a room (during the wait, he'd had a _lovely_ chat with the cute boy; they'd learned many things about each other that they shared in common – they loved singing, were both in the Glee club, had the same taste in musicals, fashion magazines; they both had the same favorite Broadway plays and musicals... The jury was still out on if Blaine was gay, though. But Kurt could hope. He was good at hoping), Mandy had come back in to say that they had two x-ray rooms open. Kurt was placed back into his wheelchair and wheeled out of the room before he could say goodbye to Blaine, who was busy trying to wake his sister up.

The entire process of checking his body for _anything_ wrong took four hours. By the time he'd been put back into his room, Blaine and his adorable little siblings were gone; Kurt spent the rest of the wait listening to his dad snore while he napped in the chair next to Kurt's bed, Kurt's hand clutched softly in both of his.

An hour later, they got the results.

"Hi, Mr. Hummel," the nurse who had taken over for Mandy said as she walked into the room that he had been sharing with the cute boy named Blaine. "We have the results back."

Kurt sat up in his bed, then reached over and shook his dad gently. "Dad, wake up. They have the results."

His dad jerked awake, then yawned as he sat up straight. "So, what's the verdict?" He asked the nurse, sleep still heavy in his voice.

The nurse glanced down at the clipboard in her hands, then smiled up at the both of them. "He's perfectly fine – nothing is wrong anywhere; all of his tests were clear."

Kurt squeezed his dad's hand as his father breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank god..." His dad leaned back against the chair top, his head tilted up towards the ceiling, eyes closed. He squeezed Kurt's fingers back a bit before he pushed himself off of the chair. "I'm going to go check you out, okay buddy?"

Kurt nodded, then leaned back against the bed. He was planning on laying there until his dad came back, but his watch went off and he sighed. He got up from the bed and slipped on his shoes. "Bathroom time," he said to the nurse as he began to head out of the room; he was close to the door when the nurse told him to wait for a second. She began to dig around in her pocket before she pulled out a slip of paper.

"Here," she said, handing him the paper. "I was told to give that to you." She left with a wink as Kurt looked down at the paper.

_Hi Kurt._

_I was hoping to give this to you in person, but you still weren't done with your x-ray by the time Katie was put in a cast and I couldn't just wait around, even though I wanted to; you're very fun to talk to, and we have a lot in common, so I don't want to just let that possible friendship go to waste. Here's my number. I do hope that you'll text me when you get this, otherwise I'll feel like a gigantic idiot._

_Blaine Anderson_

Underneath his name, Blaine had written out his phone number. Grinning, Kurt pulled out his own phone as he walked to the bathroom. As he made his way down the hall, his steps slow and deliberate, he typed out a quick text to Blaine.

_Hi, this is Kurt. I don't know if you're awake, because it's rather late; the nurse just gave me this. -Kurt_

He took ten minutes in the bathroom, and by the time he'd been checked out of the hospital and was halfway through the ride home he remembered to check his phone. There was one text message from Blaine A.

_Hi, Kurt! :) That's okay – I just finished putting Katie and James to bed. If it's okay if I ask, how was the testing? Anything broken? - Blaine_

Kurt smiled, one that his dad saw, because he let out a laugh as he got into the lane to get off of the highway. "What?"

His dad let out a chuckle. "Nothing, I just haven't seen you smile like that in a while. It's because of that boy you shared a room with, right?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, he's really nice."

"He's also charming. He offered to get me some coffee while you were getting your tests done."

Kurt grinned. "That was nice of him."

"What's his name again? Blake?"

"Blaine," he replied, busy typing out a response to Blaine's texts.

_It's fine; no, nothing is broken, thankfully. How's Katie doing? I was hoping to say goodbye to her – she and James are adorable. -Kurt_

"You know, Kurt," his dad said softly as they pulled into their neighborhood. "I was wondering if it would be okay with you if I invited Carole and Finn over for dinner during one of our Friday dinners?"

Kurt blinked at him, then bit down on his lip. His thoughts on the question were cut off as his dad said sharply, "Kurt. Teeth."

Kurt let his jaw drop a bit, then put a hand up to his mouth; his fingers came back slightly bloody. "Oh... I forgot for a second." He wiped at his mouth with his hand, then let out a sigh. "Yes, that would be fine; they're almost family, though, so I'm honestly surprised that it's taken you so long to invite them over."

Burt's smile seemed to grow larger. "Good, Kurt. That's... That's good," he said happily, and their conversation stopped for the rest of the ride back to their home.

Kurt didn't respond to the text that he knew Blaine had sent to him until he'd finished his nightly routine of checking over his body; his lip didn't look too bad – he'd had his dad check over it once they were in the light of his bathroom, and he'd been told that it was fine. Nothing serious. Once he was settled in bed, with his alarm set to go off at one in the morning so that he could use the restroom, he picked up his phone and read the text message.

_She's doing fine – the pain medication they gave her also knocks her out so she's currently snoring her head off. James is lucky that he has his own room, because she's loud. And she wishes that she could say bye as well; she's rather fond of you. I think she has a crush ;) -Blaine_

Grinning, Kurt slipped underneath his covers, then typed back his response.

_Sorry about the late reply. I had to do a nightly checkup – they can take a while. Oh wow, I'm flattered. She's a sweetheart, really. -Kurt_

Two minutes later, he had his reply:

_That's completely fine! Yeah, I have to agree. I thought dealing with younger twin siblings would be completely, utterly horrible, and while it is half of the time, the other half (when they're cute) is rather great. -Blaine_

Kurt was getting ready to reply back when his phone buzzed again.

_Hey, so are you busy this weekend? -Blaine_

Confused, Kurt sent back a quick reply.

_No, why? -Kurt_

There was a five minute break between the time he'd sent his text and Blaine's next one where Kurt knew that if he didn't have CIPA, he'd be sweating in anticipation.

_Katie and James' birthday is coming up soon, and I have the lovely job of finding out what they want to give each other, and then go shopping for the gifts. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? -Blaine_

Not even a minute later there was another text.

_Oh god, that sounds so boring, doesn't it? -Blaine_

_Just... Forget about it. -Blaine_

_Really. -Blaine_

Snickering, Kurt shook his head, then started to type out his reply, but he'd only gotten one word down when his phone buzzed again.

_But, I guess if you really do want to come with me, then sure. You can. -Blaine_

_...unless you're just feeling that I'm weird or something. -Blaine_

_I'm acting weird now, aren't I? -Blaine_

_I'm sorry. -Blaine_

Sighing, but still smiling, Kurt abandoned texting and opted for calling him. "Blaine," he said once he'd heard the slightly hesitant '_Hello?'_ on the other end of the phone. "I'd love to go with you. I really don't know why you're freaking out."

Blaine let out a long breath of air that made the phone speakers sound like they were crackling, which made Kurt laugh softly. "_Because you're an awesome person and I feel like an idiot right about now. I just met you, literally, and I'm already asking you to hang out with me – sorry. I'm kind of freaking out._"

Kurt's laughter wasn't going to be stopped, it seemed. Blaine thought that he was an awesome person? _He just made my entire week and he has no idea._ "Blaine, really. I'd love to go with you, and you aren't an idiot. You're far from it, actually. There's nothing to freak out about. When you become friends with someone, you ask them to hang out. It's kind of what friends do."

There was an audible sigh that had Kurt's smile growing. "_Nothing to be freaking out about?"_

"Nothing to freak out about."

{*}

"Oh my god, Mercedes. I'm freaking out here, _freaking out_."

Mercedes glanced up from the magazine that she was reading. "Why are you freaking out? It's not a date, you know."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know that; we're just hanging out. But what if I forget to set my watch to remind me to go to the bathroom or... Or something horrible happens and I fall down the stairs or – or what if there's a _robbery_and we're all held hostage?"

"...at the _mall_?"

Kurt sighed. "I'm being stupid, I know, but he's _cute. _And he's also nice, and... Mercedes, he told me that I was _awesome_, and no boy has _ever_ told me that, gay or straight." He threw himself across his bed dramatically. "Oh god... I'm acting like Rachel Berry. See what he's doing to me, Mercedes? _Do you see what he's doing to me?"_

Mercedes let out a small chuckle. "Baby, don't worry. I'll come over before your date and make sure that you have all of your alarms set, and then we'll pick out a nice outfit that will leave him _drooling_ after you."

Kurt sighed heavily. "I don't even know if he's gay, Mercedes. He's probably just a nice guy; he goes to Dalton Academy, the all boys' school in Westerville."

Mercedes gave him a pointed look. "See? He could be gay – all _boys'_ school."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, because an all boys' school automatically means that everyone there is gay," he said, moving over so that he was laying on his back. "Why am I freaking out again, Mercedes? It's not like it's a date."

She nodded. "No, it's not a date. Just take a deep breath and we'll get through this." She slipped off of his bed, then grabbed her backpack. "You ready?"

He nodded, then got up from his bed, took his messenger bag and his watch, then headed downstairs with Mercedes in tow. "Dad?" He called as he passed through the kitchen quickly. "Mercedes and I are leaving now!"

There was no response, so Kurt shrugged, said to Mercedes, "Must already be at the garage," then headed out the door and made his way to his friend's car.

Kurt always liked to arrive early to school, so that he could get past the jocks who took over the halls with shushies in their hands – he'd never been hit by one, and he was glad; he wouldn't know how to act. And he _didn't_ want his condition known to the students. He didn't want a repeat of middle school. If it happened again, his dad would break – and Kurt would break with him.

"Mercedes, is the hall clear?"

Mercedes had stuck her head into the hallway first, and Kurt had a thought about them being a spy movie, sneaking around a building, trying not to get caught. In a way, they were.

"It's clear of jocks if that's what you mean."

Grinning, Kurt slipped out from behind the wall and took Mercedes' hand in his. "How's the history project going?"

She let out a groan. "Horribly. And by horribly I mean I want to bash my head against the wall for a few hours."

"Sounds enjoyable."

She smirked at him. "Oh, honey. _It is_."

He was glad for Mercedes. She'd been the first person he'd come out to; she'd also been the first person he'd told about his condition. She had been shocked, of course, but she'd stayed by his side, and had even held his hand when he'd told the rest of Glee club about being diagnosed as a CIPA patient. She had been his friend when he'd really needed one. And she was still with him, even through all of the cancellation of their plans because he'd fallen down the stairs, or when he'd forgotten to eat and ended up in the hospital with an I.V. stuck in his arm, counting down the hours until he was released.

She really put up with a lot.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

Mercedes stared at him for a second, then she grinned. "Oh, baby. _I know_ that I am. I am _flawless_."

He grinned at her, feeling that the day was only going to get better. "You make me sure of it every day," he told her as they arrived at his locker. He opened it, then grabbed his books, stuffed them in his bag, then looked at the mirror that he'd placed on the door, checking his face for any cuts, bruises or swelling. He double checked his lips, ignoring a few of the scars that he had around his lower lip (from chewing on them as a child), and grinned happily when everything looked clean and free of any injuries. "Oh yeah," he said as he closed his locker and looked back at Mercedes. "You had a date the other night! How did it go?"

Mercedes shrugged. "It was okay, but I have to admit, I _did_ spend most of it worrying about you," she said, giving him a pointed glare.

He felt the need to shrink. "I'm sorry, really. I should have kept you updated but-"

"But you were busy having a talk with _Blaine," _she said, winking at him as he smiled. She had him there.

"I really am sorry, though. Did you need a reason to leave at all?"

She sighed, her shoulders slouching. "Yeah, sadly. I ended up having to text Tina, but she gave me a good reason to leave early. I don't even know why I agreed to go on this date anyway. I don't even like him."

Kurt shrugged, then tugged on her arm and lead her into the choir room for their morning meeting. "Because you wanted to go on a date. Is that so bad?"

As she sat down on the seat, she nodded, pulling up a chair and motioning for Kurt to sit down beside her. "No, I guess that it's not bad. But, while we're on the topics of dates, are you going to ask Blaine to clarify if it _is_ a date? Will you lose the 'boy-hug virginity'?"

Kurt flushed. "No, I'm not. Because it isn't one – we're shopping for his little sister and brother's birthday – and two, I'm not going to ruin the day by asking that." He frowned for a second. "And three, _boy-hug virginity?_ Really?" He sucked in his bottom lip, placing it between his teeth, but was startled when Mercedes yanked on his arm and turned him to face her.

"No, baby. No chewing."

He let go of his lip. "Okay?" He asked, pointing to his lip.

She looked hard, then nodded. "Yeah, it's fine. Baby, you gotta stop chewing."

He sighed, then let his head fall into his hands. Lip chewing (and sometimes chewing on his thumbnails – he'd chewed one way past the skin, once, and it had resulted in having his fingernails taped so he wouldn't get to the skin) had been one of the problems that he had to deal with every day. He did it without thinking, or when things got stressful, and he had the little scars to prove it.

There were four scars on the right side of his mouth, from where he'd chewed through it as a child, then two on the left from chewing as well. He needed to stop, but it was _hard_, especially when he couldn't feel it. He could feel the pressure, of course, but nothing else. It was _not_ fun waking up in the morning, realizing that he'd chewed his lip through again, and cleaning the blood out of his hair and bed covers wasn't a joy either.

"Do you know what is going to be talked about in this meeting?"

Mercedes was pulling out a notebook, looking very bored as the rest of the glee club wandered in, all of them chatting to each other. "Dunno. Rachel called it. She said we need to pay close attention to what she's going to be talking about too, so, according to her, no phones or ipods for this meeting," she said, already putting one ear-bud in to her left ear.

"Oh," Kurt said as he took out his phone to text Blaine. He couldn't wait until Saturday.

{*}

Luckily for him, Saturday came swiftly and without incident – no hospital trips, no sicknesses that popped up out of nowhere, and (most importantly) no run-ins with Karofsky or the other jocks of the school. His week had been _normal_, which had freaked him out in a way. But in the end, he'd chosen to enjoy having a normal week; who knew how long having a normal day would last? And when Saturday showed up, he was up and out of bed quicker than normal, because he was actually _looking_ _forward _to spending time with Blaine; Blaine was funny, charming, and was a great person to talk to when it came to politics and education – they had so many of the same interests. Kurt had never wanted to have a friend like him more.

"Oh my god, it's like you're the Gift Whisperer! How the hell did you get what Katie wants to get James out of her?"

Kurt felt proud, a little bit because he _was_ proud of what he'd done, but mostly because the _look_ that Blaine was giving him – one of complete awe – was pretty much making his day. He'd arrived at the address that Blaine had given him (his house – well, more like his _mansion) _and had Blaine begging at his feet to help get what Katie wanted to buy for James out of her. She'd been tough, but he'd eventually gotten her to crack.

Kurt the Gift Whisperer: 1

Pitiful Gift Hiding Peasants: 0

"I have my ways, Blaine. But, unfortunately, if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Blaine frowned. "No, seriously. _How? _It's impossible to get what gifts she wants to give to other people out of her. Christmas shopping is an utter nightmare."

Kurt laughed. "I scratched her head. My mom used to do that when I was young to get stuff out of me that I wasn't telling her – mostly what my dad was doing for her and trying to keep secret."

Blaine hummed. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank _you_, you've saved me many future headaches."

Kurt grinned at him, opening his mouth to respond, but his watch beeped at him, and his smile fell. "Oh, I'm sorry." He said, turning to Blaine. "I need to run to the restroom," he said, tapping his watch with one finger.

Blaine followed him as he rounded the corner, making his way to the bathrooms in the food court, a confused look on his face. "What for, if you don't mind my asking?"

As he pushed the door to the bathroom open, Kurt's face flushed. "Um... Since I can't feel... _certain_ things, I set my alarms to go off every two hours. Being cautious."

Blaine blinked at him, then his eyes widened. "Oh. _Oh_. Okay, I-I'll just wait outside then."

With a grin on his face, Kurt watched as Blaine stumbled out of the restroom, then he proceeded to go through his normal routine – no bruises, no cuts, no swelling. Once he was done, he left the room, then searched around for Blaine. He spotted him sitting at a table with a plate of pizza in front of him. Gripping the sleeves of his jacket in his hands, Kurt headed over, then sat down on the seat opposite of Blaine. "Hungry?"

Blaine grinned at him, then pushed the plate with the four slices to the middle of the table. "I figured it was time to eat; it's almost one." He hesitated for a second, and Kurt could see that he had questions.

"Go ahead, ask. It's okay to ask, you know."

Blaine bit his lip, then said softly, "Can you not even feel when you're hungry?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, I can't even feel when I'm hungry. It's horrible, and a year ago I went two days without eating because I was so busy – didn't feel a thing. I guess... I don't know. I'm just used to it, I guess. I've lived with it my entire life."

Blaine was staring at him like he couldn't really believe what he was hearing. Kurt resisted the urge to bite his lip; what if talking about this drove Blaine away? He was already someone Kurt wanted to keep in his life, and they'd only known each other for less than a week. _Blaine, what are you doing to me and how are you doing it?_

Blaine's jaw suddenly snapped shut. "I'm sorry; I just... _Wow_. I can't even imagine how hard it is to live day by day without feeling _pain_ or just... I know some people say that they wish they couldn't feel pain – I know that I have on _many_ occasions-" and here Blaine pulled a face, like he was regretting something or hating himself for something, and Kurt wanted nothing more than to reach over and hold his hand. "-but looking at you, I wish that _you_ could."

Kurt was overcome with the sudden urge to propose to the boy in front of him, to just get down on one knee and fucking _propose_."Wow, Blaine. No one's ever said that to me..." He grinned. "Hearing people say that they wish they couldn't feel pain makes me want to punch them, or do something violent to them. They have no idea how horrible it is..." He blinked, then gave Blaine a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I just get into vent-like moods."

Blaine shook his head. "No, it's completely fine, really! To be honest, I'm kind of fascinated about it, you know? What made it so that you can't feel pain and everything." Blaine's face froze. "Oh... Oh, that just made me sound really creepy didn't it?"

Kurt let out a laugh, one that lasted for quite a while and made him feel like his entire day was suddenly ten times better. "No, Blaine. Not at all. I actually like answering questions about it, if people ask, because then they get their facts straight and don't think I'm even more than a freak than I already am."

Blaine frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kurt cocked his head to the side. "I mean that I can't feel pain, or when I'm hungry, or when I have to go to the bathroom; let me tell you, I had _so_ many embarrassing moments before I figured out to use a watch to keep track of when I should eat and all of those _important_ things."

"But that's not a reason to call you a freak, Kurt."

Kurt glanced down at the pizza in front of him, fiddling with his hands. Then he decided to hell with it. "I'm gay, as well as a CIPA patient," he said proudly.

Blaine blinked. "Oh, well, I am too, so... We've got one more thing in common."

Staring at him, Kurt couldn't stop the awkward grin that was appearing on his face. "Did... Did we just have the awkward 'Hi, I'm Kurt and I'm gay' moment?"

Blaine nodded, a rather large grin slowly growing on his face. "I think mine was more of the 'Hi, I'm Blaine. I'm blunt, sometimes stupid, and gay'."

"Well, your stupid and bluntness is rather cute," Kurt said, taking a bite of pizza.

Blaine chuckled, then reached for his own slice. "Why, thank you, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt grinned, then finished his pizza in silence. He stayed quiet while Blaine ate, and only once Blaine had placed his napkin on his plate did he speak up. "So, are you ready to go get this shopping over with?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes, especially since we have to go into that doll store to get the doll that James wants to get Katie. I _hate_ that place. It's too pink."

Kurt rolled his eyes as they stood up and headed out of the food court. "Oh please. Pink isn't _that_ bad."

As it turned out, the store really was _that bad_. It was like being surrounded, suffocated, by the color pink. At one point, Kurt had actually latched on to Blaine's arm when they'd rounded a corner in the shop, only to come face to face with the creepiest doll he'd ever seen. Blaine had leaned over to whisper in his ear, "I sometimes think they're alive, and that they watch us while we shop."

Kurt shuddered. "I'm never going to be able to touch a doll again, Blaine. _Never again_."

Blaine squeezed his arm. "Eventually the nightmares stop, Kurt. But it takes a while."

Their arms were still linked when they made the purchase for the doll Katie wanted. Kurt had been worried about what looks they'd get, or what someone would say, but the girl managing the cash register took one look at their linked arms, then sighed.

"I hope this place hasn't scared you for life; and don't worry about being called gay when you walk in and out of here. This place made a thirty year-old cling to his best friend like a five year old. Have a nice day, and _please_ make a complaint about how pink this place is to the manager!"

"You know, I think I like her," Kurt said as they (_finally_) left the freakiest store he'd ever been in.

"I think she's new," Blaine replied, giving Kurt's arm one last squeeze before he let go. Kurt watched the arm move with a sad gaze, but he knew it had to have happened eventually. The doctors told him that if he was held too long there was a chance that he could overheat. And overheating and collapsing would be the _perfect_ way to win Blaine over. _Wait, what? Win him over?_

He shook his head, clearing it of the random thought. "Well, we've got everything. Ready to head out?"

Blaine nodded, and the two of them made their way out the exit and towards their cars; they'd decided to travel in separate cars, just in case something happened and Kurt had to leave. Kurt had found it utterly adorable that Blaine was perfectly fine to travel separately, like it was normal to have to rush to the hospital if something happened.. It was nice to have another friend who saw past his condition.

"I'm really glad that you invited me, Blaine."

Blaine grinned, one that showed his teeth and made his the corners of his eyes crinkle. It was absolutely adorable. "I'm glad that I invited you. It's always best to go shopping with a friend, right?"

Ah, and there it was. It _wasn't_ a date. Kurt really didn't know why he wasn't surprised. _Or_ why he felt a little sad about it not being a date.

He was opening his mouth, intent on answering, when someone rammed into his shoulder, causing him to twist and fall towards the ground. He pushed his arms out, then felt his palms skid forward on the ground until he came to a stop. Shifting, he caught the sight of a McKinley Letterman jacket and frowned when he heard the laughter coming from the guy.

_Karofsky, you bastard_.

Blaine was down by him in practically a heartbeat. "Kurt! Are you okay?"

Kurt pushed himself up to his knees, then stood. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said as he glanced down at his palms; they were both bleeding, the right one more than the left. Blaine noticed this, because he dropped the bags he'd been carrying and took Kurt's hands in his, looking down at the cuts.

"Ouch," he whistled, and then he moved a thumb over some of the blood, looking more closely at the wounds. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

Kurt shook his head. "Can't feel it, Blaine. Don't worry."

Blaine bit his lip, then nodded. "I have a first aid kit in my car; come with me and I'll patch these up for you."

Kurt followed him, intrigued. "You have a first aid kit in your car?"

"Yeah, I uh... I kind of want to going into the medical field. My family isn't really happy with that, but oh well." He glanced down at his wallet. "Can I put this in your coat for now? I don't have pockets big enough." When Kurt nodded, he grinned, then let the wallet slip inside Kurt's coat pocket. "Thank you."

Kurt was still frowning, however, but he stood by Blaine once they got to the car and watched as Blaine dug around in the back seat for the kit. "Your family doesn't want you to go into the medical field? Most parents would be overjoyed!"

Blaine pulled out of the car, then placed the kit on the roof, the neosporin already in his hands. "My family owns a legal company. They want it to stay in the family, you know?"

Kurt nodded, watching as Blaine applied the neosporin to his hands. "Yeah, I do. My dad owns a car shop, but he knows that I'm not going to stay in Lima and take it over for him."

Blaine was busy watching as he cleaned up the blood from Kurt's palms. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but this is just... _interesting_," he finished, reaching up to grab the band-aids and the gauze.

"What is?"

Blaine glanced up. "The fact that you can't feel this. I just put some stuff on to stop them from getting infected and I always cry out because it stings so bad."

Kurt shrugged. "I've had it my entire life; I don't even know what pain feels like."

"I'm going to say it again, and then hope that you don't hit me for being insensitive or something, but _wow_."

Kurt laughed softly, watching as Blaine delicately wrapped his palms up with gauze. "Blaine, you aren't being insensitive, really. It's not every day that you meet someone who can't feel pain. I'm the eighty-fifth person in the US to have a documented case. It's _rare_, so don't feel bad for feeling... interested, okay? If I feel like you're being too invasive, I'll let you know."

Blaine nodded, finished up his wrapping job. He dropped Kurt's hands and placed everything back in the first aid kit, then placed it back inside the car. Once he was done, he turned back to Kurt, smile still in place. "Thank you, again, for coming. It was much more enjoyable than the other times I've gone shopping for their gifts."

Kurt titled his head to the side and shrugged his shoulders, holding his palms up as he did so. "What can I say? I just make _everything_ better."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Blaine agreed. Then he started fiddling with his fingers. "Um... Can I... Can I hug you? Is that awkward?"

Kurt blinked, stunned for a moment - Kurt had never been hugged by another boy his age before. Slowly he nodded, watching as the grin on Blaine's face grew as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kurt's body. The hug only lasted for a few seconds, but he loved every second of it, and for the first time in his life he wished that he could feel warmth, because he knew that Blaine would be warm. He wanted to know what it felt like to have Blaine warm him up.

They went their separate ways after the hug, and once Kurt was close to home he pulled out his phone and called Mercedes quickly, then put her on speaker phone. "So, guess who just lost his so called Boy-Hug virginity?"

Her squeal made his day even better.

{*}

He was still sitting in his unmoving car when Kurt pulled out of the mall parking lot, a smile on his face as he watched Kurt's car vanish from his view. _Kurt Hummel_, he thought fondly to himself as he put the keys in the ignition and started to drive home. The closer he got to home, though, the more his good mood slipped.

His parents were home now, and he wasn't looking forward to seeing them once he got back to the house. They hadn't been too pleased about Katie, and Blaine had been given a stern talking to, as well as an, "I'm disappointed in you, Blaine," from his father.

As his car pulled into the garage, he let out a sigh, then killed the engine and let his head fall forward on to the steering wheel. _Kurt's lucky in a way,_ he thought. He knew that Kurt could still feel emotional pain, but he still had one less way to feel pain than others. And as he stumbled up into the place that never felt like home, Blaine couldn't help but think to himself, _sometimes, I just wish I couldn't feel _anything, _emotional pain or physical pain.__ Life would be so much easier that way, right?_

A split second later, he slapped himself, thinking about what Kurt had told him earlier. _Don't think like that, Blaine. Don't._

Blaine didn't meet up with any members of his family as he entered the house and made the trip up to his room, which he was glad for. He didn't particularly feel up to seeing his parents – not that he didn't love them, but his father only seemed to care about the things that Blaine _wasn't_ and wouldn't be.

Like being straight.

Blaine would never be straight, _ever_, and his father seemed to refuse to acknowledge it.

With a soft sigh, Blaine slipped into his room and stumbled over to his bed, falling onto it with a huff of air. A crinkling sound came out from under him, and he rolled over to see a stack of papers on his bed with a yellow sticky note on top of them. Sitting up, he pulled the papers over to him, curiosity rising. But once he saw what they were, his curiosity vanished, and he stared at the sticky note blankly.

_Blaine_, it read.

_Here is a list of Universities that have amazing law programs. You are in your senior year, and you have yet to pick a University with an acceptable law program. These are a few that I'd been considering when I was trying to figure out what University to go to, so I figured that you were probably having the same issue. I hope that you are able to look over these and make your decision soon._

_-Gregory A._

That was how his father communicated with him most of the time: sticky notes on a stack of papers and his signature that he used for work. And there his father went again, forgetting that Blaine _did not_ want to go into law; they'd had that argument before. But it seemed like his father had forgotten, like he always did when it came to what Blaine wanted and what he _was_.

He took the sticky note and tore it up, then tossed it onto the floor in front of him, glaring down at the four pieces of paper. He was about to tear up the brochures that his father had given him when his phone rang. He answered it without bothering to check who it was.

"Hello?"

"_Blaine, hi!"_

Blaine stood up quickly from his bed, his good mood suddenly coming back, full force. "Hi, Kurt – hi!"

There was a laugh on the other end of the line and Blaine smiled. _"I still have your wallet,"_ Kurt said simply, and Blaine's eyebrows rose as he hastily checked his pockets.

"You're right. I kind of need that."

"_When do you need it by?"_

Blaine bit his lip, thinking. "Well, by Wednesday, at the latest."

"_Where do you go to school again? D-something, right?"  
><em>

"Dalton Academy, why?"

"_Westerville, right? Well, my dad has to make a run for parts down there on Tuesday – I could stop by while he's loading the truck up and give you your wallet."_

He sounded so _happy_, like he really wanted to see _Blaine_. And Blaine just couldn't say no to that. "You sure?"

"_Positive. When do you have a break?"_

"I have lunch at twelve-thirty, but Kurt; don't you have school?"

"_I do, but I always help my dad with these pickups; check to make sure everything he ordered is there and all. No heavy lifting or anything, but he usually spends an hour or so talking with the other workers so I'll have nothing to do then. I can be there at twelve-thirty. I'll see you then?"  
><em>

Blaine nodded, but then spoke out loud when he realized he was on the phone. "Y-yeah. I'll see you then."

"_Okay, bye, Blaine!"  
><em>

"Bye," he said happily, hanging up with the smile still on his face.

_Kurt Hummel_, he thought happily to himself as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's note:<em>** This chapter was _long_.

It's fourteen pages.

I normally write ten.

What is up with this chapter.

Oh well, it's happy! In a way! Happiness before the angst, right? RIGHT?

Aaaaanyway, I'd love to hear what you guys think of this chapter, so... review?

(**this chapter was beta-read by the lovely mrsharryjamespotter**) Lots of love, UO 


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**_

_**Medical disclaimer: **_I am not, in any way, an expert when it comes to the medical condition, CIPA. I only know what my research has taught me.

_**Warnings: **_A tool of a Warbler. (at least, my version of him anyway)

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter three<strong>_

* * *

><p>Blaine really didn't get along with his dad, and it wasn't completely because he was gay.<p>

He liked to sing and dance and wanted to go to medical school. His father wanted him to work in the family law firm, know more about politics, and most of all, he wanted Blaine to come home one day and say the words, "So, I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."

The last part he knew for a fact, because he'd overheard his father talking with his mother about it, how Blaine would eventually 'grow out' of the little phase he was in, and realize that it's _women_ that do it for him. Three years later, Blaine still liked boys and his dad still didn't understand him.

It hurt, sometimes, to know that his father was never really going to accept him. That he could never come home and proudly tell his parents that he had a boyfriend (if he ever got one), tell his family that he was _happy_, because they would never believe it. His dad would nod, then look back down at whatever he would be reading, then change the subject and mention a client that was coming over for dinner, and that the client had a lovely_ daughter_, so would Blaine please get to know her?

They'd understood, though, his need to transfer to Dalton. He'd come home from the Sadie Hawkins dance with a broken arm and six stitches in his skull, and that had been enough for his mother; she'd immediately transferred him, and Blaine was sure that she'd given his father a good yelling match when his dad had shown some backing out, saying that Blaine was taking the easy way out.

Maybe he had been, but he was safer now. He was _safe_ and _happy_ and he had so many great friends. And now, now he had Kurt too.

Kurt Hummel, who was wonderful and had just made his day better when it had been starting to get horrible.

Grinning, Blaine darted towards his bed, throwing himself on it, letting his body bounce up and down next to the abandoned brochures for the law schools his father had given him, until he came to a stop, feeling giddy like an eight year old. He'd never met someone who made him feel this _happy_ before. Kurt was just amazing, as well as beautiful and _astounding_. He was like no one else he'd met before. Kurt was his own person, and so sure of himself that Blaine felt the want to be around him all of the time.

Also, he was hot.

_But that's just me being shallow_.

With a soft sigh, Blaine curled up on his side and thought about Kurt; _wonderful_ Kurt who couldn't _feel_. It had been so strange, applying the medicine that would make anyone cry out in pain did nothing. Kurt hadn't even been aware that he'd been administering it. _God, I'd hate to have that,_ Blaine thought, going back to what Kurt had told him and feeling bad for thinking, even for a second, that Kurt had it easy, how he had to have timers set to remind him to _eat_ and go to the bathroom, and how he had to check himself after doing everything to make sure that his body hadn't swollen up or if he was cut and bleeding out.

Frowning, Blaine slapped himself. _Stop it, Blaine. Kurt's not just a medical condition. He's a real human being, and you like him._

He sat up, took off his sweater and threw it over his bed, then headed down to the family room, where he knew his parents would be sitting. "Hello," he said softly as he sat down on the open couch across from his mother. "I got the gifts today."

His mother nodded at him. "That's wonderful, sweetie, and rather fast. How did you manage to finish it that quick?"

Blaine grinned. "A friend of mine got it out of Katie really fast, so we were able to finish within two hours."

His dad's head jerked up from the paper that he was reading and Blaine braced himself. "Oh? A new girl friend?"

Blaine bit his lip as he answered, "No. His name is Kurt. I met him at the ER when I had to bring Katie in."

His father had been sad to hear about Katie, but other than that, his dad hadn't cut the trip short (even though his mother had wanted him to) to make sure that their daughter was okay. It was when he did that, ignored his younger children, that Blaine felt the feeling most people called hate. His father seemed to care more about looking good in the public eye than his own children. His mother tried, Blaine knew that, to get his father to see that not everything was all about what the neighbors thought of the Anderson's, but he didn't seem to listen to her.

"You met him... at the ER?" his mother asked softly, her book actually lowered in her lap.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, he's the one that made sure that we got a room. Said that Katie had been waiting longer than him, so he said she needed to go first."

His mother let her mouth fall open. "Oh... Well, tell him _thank you. _Really, honey, please."

Blaine nodded, shocked a little bit by her sudden interest. His father, however, set his jaw, and hardened his face. "I see. Well, aside from your new _friend_-" he started, in a tone that made Blaine glad that he hadn't mentioned that Kurt was gay. "I am having a colleague of mine over tonight; he is bringing his wife and their _lovely_ daughter-"

And that was the cue for Blaine to zone out.

He went back to when he was still at the mall with Kurt, where they were laughing and just having _fun_. Kurt seemed to be able to make Blaine laugh easily, something that Blaine was grateful for. He didn't often just have fun like that outside of school. He was glad that he did now.

"Blaine, honey?"

He tilted his head towards his mother, who was leaning close to him while his father talked about the _lovely_ girl who was going to be brought over. "What is it?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry about him. He should come around eventually."

Blaine sighed, but thanked her mentally; she'd never had a problem with him being gay. In fact, once he'd come out to his family, and after his father had stormed out of the room, she'd taken him aside and said that when she'd been young, she'd had a gay best friend. Her name had been Sarah, and she had been no different from any of his mother's other friends, just that she liked girls instead of guys. It had shocked Blaine to his core, knowing that his mother was _okay_ with him being gay.

It was just his father that had an issue with it.

"Blaine? Do you think that you could _at least_ try to get to know her?"

Blaine let out a long sigh. "Yes, father. I can _at least_ try to get to know her; I'm sure she'll make a great friend," he said, watching as his dad's mouth fell open to speak once more. He hurried to continue, "But I won't be taking her out on dates, unless they're friend dates. I don't know if you remember, but I _don't like girls_. The only romantic dates I'll be going on are with _guys," _he said firmly as he stood up from his chair and left the room. He could only handle so much of his dad.

On his way to the kitchen, his phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text message from Kurt, and he grinned, his day going back being happy.

_My dad says thank you for helping to bandage my palms up and clean them. If you hadn't done that, I'd be back in the hospital – so ENDLESS thank yous! I can't stand that place! -Kurt_

Blaine shook his head, laughing softly to himself as he did so.

_Spend a lot of time in hospitals then? I like the atmosphere, I guess. One of the reasons I want to work in the medical field. -Blaine_

His main reason, though, was because he loved medicine. He loved seeing the way that it worked, curing people of something that could kill them. His older brother had been really sick, once, and had ended up in the hospital, and Blaine had been fascinated by the team who had been working on finding out what was wrong with his brother. He'd wanted to go into the medical field ever since.

_Too much time. Way too much time. But, I hate it for different reasons; I'm sure that working there is completely different from just having to go there for tests. -Kurt_

Kurt had a point there.

_Yeah, I bet if I spent as much time at the hospital as you do, I wouldn't want to work there either. -Blaine_

_Well, I hope you never have to. I really do. Oh, got to go; dad needs help making dinner. I don't know what he'd do without me, really. Bye! -Kurt_

"You're precious," he told the text softly, then frowned at himself, because where had that thought come from? He put his phone down on the counter, and quickly made himself dinner – he didn't want the maid to do it, seeing as she was helping Katie and James with their own dinner, and they always made making dinner World War III. After he ate, he checked his phone again and saw that he had a message from Wes.

_Warbler meeting, Monday morning at seven a.m. Found out our competition for Sectionals. It's MANDATORY, so yes, Jeff, you have to be there AT seven in the morning. No complaining._

Placing his plate into the sink, Blaine dialed Wes' number, wondering who their competition would be.

{*}

"So, while it wasn't a date, he _is, _in fact, gay."

Kurt wasn't quite sure how one simple phone call to Mercedes had ended up with him sitting on his bed, surrounded by Tina, Quinn, Mercedes, Rachel, Brittany, _and_ Santana, but he couldn't complain. He'd been unsure as to why Santana was there, but she'd explained that she was there because Brittany was there, not because she liked him, and he was okay with that.

Really.

"He sounds like a really nice guy," Tina said as she took another handful of potato chips. "I mean, it's not every day that you meet someone like that, _especially_ in an E.R."

"I wonder what his musical talent is," Rachel mused, idly flipping through Kurt's CD collection.

"He sounds short," Santana said from where she was sitting on the floor, braiding Brittany's hair.

Kurt frowned. "Well, he's shorter than me, by not even two inches, but-"

"So he's short. Why do you think he's cute?" Santana asked, having stopped braiding Brittany's hair, instead choosing to run her fingers through the blonde strands. "I mean, sure, short guys can be amazing and come with a _very _nice package, but-"

"Santana!" Kurt exclaimed, leaning over the bed so that he could get closer to her. "Yeah, he's cute, but it's not like anything is going to happen between me and him anyway-"

"Why do you say that?" Tina asked, stretching out on his bed and letting her head fall next to his thigh. "There's a chance that something _could_, you know?"

Kurt let out a sigh and slumped against his pillows. "I don't know..." He glanced over at his alarm clock. "It's almost six, shouldn't you guys be going?"

The girls shuffled awkwardly out of the room and one by one began to file out of his house, but Mercedes paused by the door once she'd reached it and took hold of Kurt's shoulder. "We still have a lot to talk about, baby. You told me you're meeting up with Blaine soon, so you _better _be ready to spill the details that night, okay?"

The look on her face told him that he wouldn't be getting out of telling her about what happened with Blaine, so he nodded, rolling his eyes as he did so, then gave Mercedes a hug goodbye. "Yes, I'll tell you, but only because I know that you'll force it out of me sooner or later."

She winked at him. "That's right, white boy. Love you, see you at school."

He watched until her car had pulled out of the driveway and then headed back inside the house. His dad was busy in the kitchen, looking over a recipe book, an intense glare on his face. Grinning, Kurt sidled up beside him, then bent over the book. "Which one are you looking at?"

His dad pointed down. "The mac and cheese one. It's too difficult. Requires a lot of chopping."

Kurt grinned, looking up at his dad. "Really? _That _one is hard?"

"I said, it requires a lot of chopping. And it takes an hour to cook in the stove."

"Dad," he said, heading over to the fridge to get the needed ingredients out. "Let's just get it done; we haven't made dinner together in a long time. It'll be fun."

His dad let out a grunt. "Alright, alright. I'll do it." He bent down and pulled out the needed bowls for the food. "So, I was thinking. I'm going to invite Carole and Finn over for dinner next Friday."

Kurt pulled his head out of the refrigerator. "Oh? That's great!"

His dad let out a breath. "You think?"

Kurt nodded, placing the cheese out on the table. "Well, yeah. You're going to marry Carole, Dad."

Burt spluttered. "What do you mean by that?"

Grinning, Kurt closed the refrigerator with his foot as he placed the rest of the ingredients on the island. "It's the way you look at her. You look at her like you used to look at mom."

There was a moment of silence before, "I'm not replacing your mom, Kurt. I could never replace her."

Blinking, Kurt answered. "Oh, I know. But I think that it's great that you're able to move on, you know?"

For a moment his father just stared at him, which made Kurt shuffle awkwardly on his feet. Then Burt smiled, chuckling to himself as he glanced down at the measuring bowls he'd gotten out. "You really are your mother, you know that?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, inwardly pleasantly honored that his father thought that about him. "Let's get to cooking, shall we?"

{*}

Dalton Academy for Boys was... big.

There were many stair cases, ones the spiraled, and three floors. The third floor, he discovered as he attempted to navigate his way through the school, was where some of the students lived. So far, he'd been down eight halls, walked into five ongoing classes, and stumbled upon two boys making out in an abandoned hallway. Turning on his heel he had quickly left that hall.

_Well, that's something I'd never thought I'd see_.

He had half a mind to text Blaine, and was considering pulling out his phone when he heard a yell, and the voice sounded quite a bit like Blaine that he followed it. And sure enough, it was him, standing in what seemed to be a student classroom where one would take a cooking class. He was dressed in the Dalton Academy blazer, and Kurt had to say that it looked rather good on him. Blaine was standing next to the door, talking to a boy with brown hair, so Kurt walked up next to him, pulling out Blaine's wallet.

"Blaine?"

Blaine jumped, then turned, his eyes widening once he saw Kurt; the boy with brown hair left them.

"Hey, Kurt! Thanks for coming in; I'm sorry I didn't meet you at the gate. I should have done that, _god, I'm stupid_."

Kurt shook his head, gripping Blaine's wallet tightly in his hands. "No problem," he muttered, glancing around at the kitchen where many boys in blazers were rushing around. "Wh-what's going on here?"

Blaine let out a rather large sigh. "It's the Dean's birthday, so the Warblers are doing an impromptu performance for him. And the staff is cooking him a big lunch type thing. It's all spur of the moment. But because it started raining suddenly, the food already outside got ruined and the performance is being moved inside. And since this is normally when the Warblers study, we decided to help out with the cooking of the new food and- Jeff! Don't touch that tray!"

Blaine hurried forward and grabbed the hands of a tall blonde boy, telling him something that Kurt couldn't make out. "Hold on just one second, Kurt!" Blaine suddenly called out at him, holding a hand out in his direction. "_Kevin, what are you doing?_"

Kurt watched him rush around the kitchen area, his face wide and open, eyebrows high up on his forehead, and he couldn't help but grin and attempt to hold back a laugh that most desperately wanted to burst out. Blaine kept jumping from one group of boys to the next, the look on his face growing more panicked by the second. Eventually, though, he joined Kurt back at his side, looking worn out.

"I'm never volunteering to help out in the kitchen again," he said wearily. "These boys are horrible when it comes to following orders about cooking food. I mean, I'm not the best cook, but even I know not to eat certain foods when they haven't been fully cooked!"

Kurt giggled slightly, then held out the hand that was holding Blaine's wallet. "Well, I came to give you this, so here."

Blaine took it from his hand, then slipped it into his blazer pocket. "Thank you, Kurt."

A silence drew around them, only filled by the sounds of the other boys who were making a mess in the kitchen. "Uh, so..." Kurt said awkwardly, shifting his feet. He was about to say something when his phone vibrated; he fished it out of his coat pocket to see his alarm informing him to do his full body check and he cringed.

Every day, in the middle of the day, he performed an entire body check, where he stripped down and examined every part of his body. He did this three times a day – in the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening before bed. Normally, since the middle check happened while he was at school, he'd go to the nurse's office and perform it in the single bathroom there, but he wasn't at his school... Resisting the urge to bite his lip, he tapped Blaine on the shoulder and then leaned close to whisper in Blaine's ear (and ignoring the way that Blaine seemed to tense up slightly), "Um... I kind of need to use a bathroom." He pulled away and showed Blaine his alarm; Blaine's eyebrows rose a little, but he nodded and grabbed Kurt's hand as he dragged them out of the room.

_Blaine's holding my hand,_ he thought wildly, not even bothering to glance around at the school, to see the beauty of the paintings or the decorations that were hanging up on the wall. _Blaine's holding my hand!_

He wanted to feel it, to be able to admire the warmth that he knew Blaine's hand was emitting, because he knew that once he got over the excitement of another boy (and a very good looking one at that) touching _his_ hand, the touch would feel... plain. Like a lot of things in his life – it would just be a hand hold, and it wouldn't be special.

_So, I can't ever let this excitement leave,_ he told himself firmly. _It _can't_ ever leave._

Blaine held his hand the entire way to the bathrooms, but once they were there Kurt tensed up. "Uh, Blaine? I-is there a _private_ bathroom around here somewhere so that I can use that instead?"

Blaine frowned. "Why? These ones are fine and clean if that's what you're worried about."

"Uh... Well, I need privacy for this one because it's sort of... um," he fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other. "_It's a full body one so..._" he ended up rushing out, avoiding eye contact with Blaine as he did so, so Blaine's rather loud _"oh!" _was something he only heard. He kept his head down as Blaine took his hand again.

"Yeah, I have a private room, and it comes with a bathroom, so I can take you there."

"...thank you," he muttered, giving Blaine a relieved smile as he was pulled up a staircase to the third level of the school.

Blaine lived in room 143, and it looked like a cozy place to board at, with its space and rather _large_ single bathroom.

"Here you go," Blaine said as he opened the bathroom door and gestured for Kurt to walk in. "I'll wait out here, if you need anyth- Kurt!"

Kurt, who had taken one step into the bathroom, stumbled at the sudden yell, which caused Blaine to reach for him and pull him back to prevent Kurt from falling. "Wh-what?"

"Uh," Blaine said as he released Kurt, his face growing red. "You're lips are-are bleeding," he finished rather lamely.

Frowning, Kurt put a finger to his mouth, and when he pulled it back the tip of his finger was bloody. "Oh," he said. He must have bitten his lip at some point when they were going to Blaine's room. "Thanks for letting me know," he said quickly as he walked backwards into the bathroom. "I'll be out in a bit."

"Y-yeah," Blaine said just as hastily, stepping a few steps back. "I'll be out here. Good luck?"

The look of _what the hell _on Blaine's face mirrored Kurt's, but only for a second. Kurt grinned. "Don't be so tense," he said, and then he shut the door. Once it was locked, he exhaled, knowing that if he could blush his face probably would have been as red as Blaine's.

_Wow, that was incredibly awkward!_

He shook his head, trying to keep his heart rate down, and then inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. _Okay, Kurt. Let's just get this check up done with._ He stripped quickly, trying desperately to not think about the fact that Blaine was just outside _the bathroom door, Kurt – don't think about it!_

It took him a little longer to check his body, because he kept fumbling, thinking about _Blaine_ waiting for him outside of the bathroom and because he kept checking around his shoulder to make sure that the door was shut. Eventually, though, he finished his check up, and exited the bathroom with a tissue pressed to his still bleeding lip. "I'm done," he called out, but the room was empty. "Oh," he said, glancing around to see where Blaine could have gone. So, he headed out of the room, wrapping his coat around him tightly. "Blaine?"

As it turned out, Blaine was just around the corner, talking with a rather tall boy. "No, I know. We're still doing the same song for Sectionals, so don't worry-"

"I'm not worried. I was just thinking about a duet between you and-"

"Blaine?"

He knew that it was rather rude to call out to someone who was having a conversation with another person, but Blaine looked like he _really_ didn't want to be having the conversation he was having, so Kurt thought he'd spare him a little bit. Blaine, when he turned around, looked thankful; the other boy, however, gave Kurt a glare that Kurt ignored. "Oh, hi, Kurt. Are you done?"

Kurt nodded, tightening his grip on his coat sleeves. "Yeah, I am. I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."

The other boy opened his mouth. "You sort of _did_ and-"

"No, it really wasn't anything important," Blaine said hurriedly. Then he turned back to the other boy. "It really _wasn't_, Sebastian."

No matter how bad he'd felt before from interrupting, it suddenly vanished as Kurt tried hard to keep the laugh from escaping his mouth. He sucked his lips in and his eyes widened. _Sebastian? Oh my god._

"Sebastian? This is _Kurt_. Kurt, this is Sebastian, one of the Warblers," Blaine said, halfheartedly gesturing to Sebastian behind him. "Listen, if you want to do a duet with someone, you need to take it up with the council, you know that. I'm sorry if I sound blunt, but I've got a lot to do, so I'll see you later?"

Sebastian nodded, gave Kurt one more glare, then left them, sauntering down the hall as if he owned it. Sighing, Blaine turned back to Kurt. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes I have to deal with things that I don't want to."

Shifting on his feet, Kurt avoided his eyes. "Do you really have a lot to do? I can leave-"

"No!"

Shocked, Kurt jerked his head back up to face Blaine.

Blaine ran a hand through his hair. "No, I just said that to make him leave. He's been trying to convince me to do a duet with him, because he's _sure_ that it will guarantee the Warblers a win a sectionals. Even though sectionals isn't for another month."

Intrigued, Kurt moved to lean against the wall. "Oh? Do you know who you're up against?"

Blaine shrugged. "Some all girls group and a group called _The Hipsters_. What about you guys?"

One of the things that Kurt found himself loving about Blaine, was that when they talked about their glee groups, it wasn't to get information on the other. Blaine had told him that it didn't count as a win if one group had cheated by knowing the setlist of another group, so Kurt felt really comfortable talking about Glee with him, even after the horrible Jessie St. James fiasco his sophomore year.

"We're going up against two other groups that I have yet to learn the names of. Honestly, I think that we have a good chance at making it to Regionals again this year."

Blaine nudged him playfully. "Maybe we'll see each other at Regionals then?"

Kurt laughed. "Well, if that's the case, then I can't talk to you anymore. You might learn all of our secrets."

"Ooooh," Blaine said, backing up a bit with his hands held up in front of him. "Okay, then, okay." Grinning, he moved forward again and leaned against the wall next to Kurt. They were silent for a moment, and then Blaine sighed. "He's interested in me, Sebastian."

Kurt cocked his head to the side. "Are you interested in him?"

Blaine gave him a soft smile. "Not one bit."

Kurt grinned at him, ignoring the small relieved feeling he had, then inclined his head. "Thank you for letting me use your bathroom," he said softly. "If I'd had to use the student ones and someone walked in on me... _God, _I think I would probably flush even though I _can't."_

Blaine seemed to laugh along with him for a second, but then he cut off. "Wait, you can't even blush?"

Kurt shook his head. "Nope. Can't sweat, feel pain, cry, warmth or cold, and I can't blush or anything like that."

Blaine blinked. "Wow... I mean, I've read up on some stuff since I've met you but I haven't read much and... _wow_."

Again, Kurt grinned. Blaine was just too adorable.

With a heavy sigh, Kurt stood up from the wall. "I _do_ have to go now, though. I need to get back to my dad."

Blaine's smile fell a bit and he looked rather sad, but maybe that was just Kurt trying to read too much into things that weren't there. "Okay, it's sad to see you leave so early, but I guess you _do_ have other things to do. I was kind of hoping you'd like to watch the performance."

Kurt gave him a sad smile as they began to walk down the stairs and towards the Dalton entrance. "I know, I was kind of hoping too, but with the rain I want to make sure I have enough time to go pick up my dad, you know? Maybe next time? Hopefully next time?"

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll let you know when the next one is, most definitely. We'll probably talk about a nursing home performance or a performance at the hospital during our meeting today."

They'd arrived at the door, but Kurt didn't want to leave. "You perform at the hospitals?"

"Yeah, we sometimes get permission to perform for the patients who are getting ready to leave, or for the cancer ward, or for the elderly – to cheer them up, you know?"

Kurt gave him a proud grin. "Well that's mighty nice of you Warblers," he said. He wanted to say more, but he really did need to leave. "I guess that I'll be going now. It was good to see you again, Blaine."

They shook hands, and Kurt left feeling happier than he had earlier in the day.

_Blaine Anderson,_ he thought to himself fondly as he dashed through the rain to get to his car. _What are you doing to me?_

{*}

It had been raining for a total of three days, non-stop.

Glancing out of the car window, Kurt frowned. "This rain isn't letting up at all, is it?"

Beside him, Rachel let out a soft hum as she continued to dig through her bag for something. "It's been three days, right? It'll have to let up at some point."

"I hope so," Kurt agreed as he turned on the windshield wipers, then pulled his car out of Rachel's driveway. He'd agreed to pick Rachel up instead of Finn, since he'd had to go grocery shopping anyway, and the store was in the general direction of Rachel's house. The drive from Rachel's to Kurt was mostly silent, until Rachel spoke up a little bit more than half way through the drive.

"Tina thinks that we should have a slumber party next weekend."

Kurt inclined his head in Rachel's direction as he turned the car onto the back road, pushing up the clicker for the windshield wipers to go faster once the rain started to pour down more heavily. He'd been pleasantly surprised when his dad and Carole had told Finn that Rachel could come over for their Friday night dinner, seeing as he'd pleaded. Kurt assumed that he just wanted to have someone to talk to, and since Rachel was his girlfriend, she _would_ talk to him about things he could semi-understand. "A slumber party?"

Rachel nodded, idly flickering through a magazine she'd found in her bag. "Yes, and then we can plan for Sectionals. We need to have our set list ready."

"Rachel," Kurt sighed, as he got ready to press on the gas, waiting for the light to turn green. "Knowing us, our set list won't be ready until a week before Sectionals."

Rachel frowned. "But maybe this year," she mumbled to herself as Kurt pressed on the gas. "Maybe this year we'll be ready beforehand?"

He snickered. "Oh Rachel," he said, noticing that the next light was green; he decided not to slow down – they'd make it through the light before it turned red.

"What?" She said, looking slightly offended. "I have high hopes that one day, New Directions will – KURT!"

After her scream, things seemed to move _faster_ than normal, which was odd; most of the time, in dramatic situations, time seemed to move _slower_ not faster. But nothing seemed to slow down – he was looking at Rachel, then at the window where a truck was speeding towards them at full speed and then -

His eyes blinked open, and he turned around in his seat to check his surroundings. The windows were broken, and the windshield wipers were still going, even though the car (from what he could tell) was flipped over on its side – the rain was falling on him and when he looked down he could see that his entire body was drenched in water. Reaching over with an arm, he unclasped his seat belt, then pushed himself up as far as he could go, looking around the car more. The driver side door was gone, completely torn off of its hinges; the front windshield was shattered, and the rain was being let in everywhere. As he sat up more, the car creaked around him, as if it would break if he moved in a wrong way.

There was a soft groan to his right and he jerked around to see Rachel, bleeding from her head and unconscious. "Rachel?"

She didn't move at all and he exhaled shakily as he fumbled around, looking for his phone; he needed to call 911. He _needed_ to, if not for him, but for Rachel. He couldn't find his phone, though. "God, where is it," he muttered to himself, looking around desperately. He didn't like the way Rachel was bleeding; wounds from the head were never good. He knew from experience. But not matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find his phone. _God, I need to find it, I need to help Rachel..._

He kept thinking it, _help Rachel, help Rachel,_ as he frantically searched for the phone. Eventually, he gave up on looking for his and changed direction, looking for Rachel's instead. He was unable to find hers, though, and yelling out in anger he unbuckled his seat belt, then tumbled out of the car.

He knew, in the back of his mind, that he shouldn't be moving, but he _had_ to get help for Rachel, he _had to_. Stumbling forward, for some reason not able to move his legs normally, he managed to make it to the truck; he collapsed next to the driver's door and pounded on it. "Hey!" He yelled, slamming his palms against the side. "Hey, are you awake?"

There was a groan, and then a head appeared next to the shattered window. "W-what?"

"A cell phone," he called out, his voice desperate. "I need your phone!"

The man vanished from the window, and for a while there was only the sound of the pouring rain and the man groaning until a hand appeared at the window again, cell phone in its grip. Kurt reached for it, getting out a quick, "thank you", before quickly dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"There's been a car accident. My-my friend and the driver who hit us are hurt; my friend is hurt really bad – she's bleeding from her head and- and I don't know what to do and-"

"Sir? What about you?"

Kurt ran a hand through his hair and looked over his body; there was blood, a lot, but he couldn't tell if some was from Rachel or if it was all him. His left leg looked _wrong _when he glanced down at it correctly. With a sigh, he pulled his right hand away from his head; it came back drenched in blood. But it couldn't be his - Rachel had been bleeding badly, so it couldn't be all his. It _couldn't_. It _wasn't_.

"...I'm fine."

"Sir? Are you _sure_ that you're fine?"

Kurt nodded his head as he made a few feeble attempts at walking back to his car, wondering absentmindedly why it was suddenly so hard to think. "Y's. 'mfne-" he managed to slur out before he lost the ability to feel his feet. "Wha-" he asked noone.

_"Sir? Sir? This guy is not okay, make sure there's another rig on the way,_" he could hear, but he was confused. Why were they sending rigs. What were rigs? "_Sir, are you still there?_"

"I cn't feel m' legs," he got out in time. And then his legs gave out.

He fell to the ground, the phone slipping out of his hand upon impact. Blinking quickly, he glanced down at his hand, ignoring the rather loud "_sir!"_s coming from the phone a few inches away. "Why's th' phone gone?" he asked the air before his eyes rolled up in his head and everything went black.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's notes: <strong>_Hai.

I decided to go right into the angst. This story does have _lots_ more angst too. Yay for angst, right? :D

Anyway, a huge shout-out to my beta, mrsharryjamespotter (or icedintheveins on livejournal), who often has to listen to my griping and wining about this story. And who also has to deal with the angst snippets I send her. I love you, dear!

I would very much like it if you would let me know what you thought, and if you have any questions about CIPA, feel free to ask!

Lots of love,

UO


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**_

_**Medical disclaimer: **_I am not, in any way, an expert when it comes to the medical condition, CIPA. I only know what my research has taught me.

_**Warnings:** _References to a car accident and medical procedures, as well as the tool of a Warbler.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter four<strong>_

* * *

><p>"<em>Medic 112, 114, respond code 3 <em>_on West Elm street, car versus truck, possible total of three victims, all individuals unconscious and unresponsive."_

…

"_...two teenagers, one boy, one girl – Ken, the one does _not_ look good-"_

"_Dispatch, we're going to need to send for a helicopter-"_

"_Ken! I need your help here, we're losing-"_

"_...the helicopter is on its way."_

"_She's semi-responsive, GCS 12-"_

"_This one isn't responsive at all, Sarah. BP is down from 120 systolic to 90, pulse is tachy – how did this kid even get out of the car with these injuries?"  
><em>

"_The copter is here – okay, he needs to be in the bird, get him tagged and in that copter, you hear me?"  
><em>

"_Got it... Sarah, this kid isn't responding to _any_ palpitations – not even unconsciously. Damn, that bruising on his stomach – I'm calling hot belly, Sarah. We need to get this kid out of here."_

why is there yelling...

"_What do we have? Who are we taking?"_

"_We've got a teenager involved in an MVA with a broken arm, dislocated shoulder and the abdomen is distended in the upper Left Quadrant. We've got a hot belly, possible ruptured spleen – gotta get him out now or he won't make it."_

who is... who is hurt

"_He's waking up – Hey! Kid! Can you hear me?"_

why are you... why are you yelling at me

"_Semi-responsive – pupils are-"_

I can't see anything. I can't see anything.

_It'll be okay, Kurt. Just remember to breathe._

Mom?

_Breathe, Kurt. Just breathe._

{*}

Kurt wasn't responding to his text messages.

Frowning, Blaine pocketed his phone after checking to see if Kurt had responded. It had been three weeks. Three _long_ weeks of any kind of contact. At first it was because he thought Kurt was just busy, but once the days had turned into weeks he was beginning to think that it was something else entirely. So, he had sat down and thought long and hard about their last conversation. He hadn't really said anything to make Kurt mad at him, so why was Kurt not talking to him?

"Blaine! We're ready to go!"

Glancing up from the ground, Blaine gave a nod at Thad, then let out another sigh. He couldn't really be worrying about Kurt at the moment. The Warblers had a gig at the hospital in Lima – maybe he could find a way to sneak over to McKinley?

_No, Blaine. Focus on the performance. This weekend, you can go over to Kurt's house and see what's going on._

The Warblers had booked a mini bus for the trip, which meant sitting in pairs. Sadly, Blaine was the last one on the bus, and it seemed that the only available spot was next to Sebastian. Mentally wishing he had something hard and sharp to protect himself, Blaine made the horrible trip to the open seat. He sat down as far away from Sebastian as possible and crossed his legs.

"Hello, Blaine," Sebastian said, trying to make his tone of voice silky. He failed – but maybe that was because Blaine was just biased; he _really_ didn't like that guy.

Blaine gave him a nod, then pulled out his phone, intent on getting very into an aggressive game of angry birds when he felt Sebastian hovering next to him. "What is it, Sebastian?"

"Just wondering what you're doing, is all."

Blaine _really_ didn't like Sebastian, but he was a nice person, which meant he had to be nice to Sebastian. "I'm going to play a game. Why?"

Sebastian shrugged. "So, listen, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

_Oh god..._ Sebastian was going to ask him out to the gay bar again, Blaine knew it. "Sebastian, listen-"

"Because the offer still stands on those fake I.D's and-"

"Sebastian, I've already said no four times. I highly doubt that my answer is going to change."

Sebastian frowned, but then gave Blaine a cocky grin and leaned back. "Whatever you say, Blaine."

The way Sebastian had said it made Blaine cringe. Normally, he wasn't one to block himself off from what was happening around him, but he really didn't want to have to deal with Sebastian at the moment, so he pulled out his ear buds and slipped them in, plugging the end up to his iphone as he pulled up his music. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jeff raise his eyebrows at him; Blaine gave a small jerk of his head towards Sebastian, one that had Jeff's eyes widening. _I'm sorry,_ Jeff mouthed, and Blaine shook his head.

Thankfully, Sebastian didn't bother Blaine again, and he managed to slip off of the bus quickly once they'd gotten to the hospital. Scheduled to sing to the children in the cancer ward, he walked in with Wes to check themselves in.

"Still thinking about Kurt?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, I don't know what I did _wrong_. I mean... our last conversation went _great_ and-"

"Blaine," Wes said as he signed them in. "I think you're over thinking. You said yourself yesterday that he was a busy kid. Or maybe something happened to his phone? You never know, but seriously. Calm down about it. I'm sure that it's nothing big."

Blaine let out a sigh and nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right."

{*}

"_Kurt, honey, you need to stop biting your lip."_

"_I'm biting it? Oh..."_

_A sigh, clothes shuffling -_

"_I know that it's rough, sweetie, but you'll get used to it."_

"_But... How can I get used to it if I don't know that I'm doing it?"_

"_It'll just have to become a habit. I know, honey, I know. Just don't try to worry about it so much, okay?"_

"_But, mom!"  
><em>

"_Let's make those cookies for your daddy, okay? The ones that he always talks about?"_

"_Okay!"_

I miss you, Mom.

"_We'll need to get out the chocolate chips, can you get those for me?"_

"_Sure!"_

I miss you a lot.

"_Okay, next is the eggs and the vanilla."_

I love you, Mom...

"_Kurt?"_

I think Carole is great, but she's not you, Mom.

"_Kurt, can... Can you keep squeezing my hand like that?"_

...But I'm not squeezing your hand, Mom. I'm not even touching-

"_He's moving more, so that's a good sign, right?"_

Oh... That's right. I was in a car accident. I guess this is some sort of coma dream or something along those lines.

"_Kurt, buddy. You waking up? You coming back to me?_

I guess it's time for me to go, Mom. I'll miss you. I love you.

"_Oh, honey. I love you, too. Now, hand me the chocolate chips...?"_

…

He woke up to a bright light and his father standing over him. "Hi," he rasped out, reaching up with a hand to block the light from his eyes. His limbs felt like they weren't there, and from the look of his arm (and the cast around it), he could tell that it was broken. _Possibly one of many_. "Am I... Am I on any pain medication?"

His dad nodded, his hand busy running through Kurt's hair. "Yeah, you are. A lot, actually. They put you in a medical induced coma for a week."

Kurt let out a huff. "A week? How long has it been since the crash?"

He heard a shuffle and then another head appeared next to his father's. "It has been exactly a week and three days since your car crashed. Hello, I'm Dr. Hofferson."

Kurt gave him a tilt of his head. "Only that long, huh?" He puffed out some air, then tried to sit up, pressing both hands to the bed beneath him.

"Uh-uh," Burt said, pushing him back down. "No moving today. They've got some tests they need to run."

Kurt sighed, but allowed himself to be pushed back into the mattress. "So," he said, turning his head to look at Dr. Hofferson. "What happened to me? And don't leave out any details."

"Wow," Dr. Hofferson said, giving Kurt an approving nod. "You act like this has happened before."

"Twice, actually," Burt said, eyes firmly planted on his son. "Doesn't mean it got any easier, though."

"Been in the hospital a lot, then, Kurt?" Hofferson asked, moving to check the saline bag hanging next to Kurt's bed.

"That's what happens when you're clumsy and have CIPA," Kurt replied, not liking the way that his words were slurring. _I hate this feeling_.

"Right," Hofferson laughed, flipping over one page on his clipboard. "Our main problem was the spleen, or hot belly, as it's known by most people," he said. "Your spleen ruptured in the car accident, and you were bleeding internally – lost quite a bit of blood. We didn't have to give you any blood, though; it's the reason we put you in a medical coma, though, since you have CIPA-"

"My body didn't know that it needed to heal, so I kept moving around a lot," Kurt finished for him, having heard it all before. He'd been placed in a medical induced coma once before, when he had been in a car accident that had taken his mother, for the same reason – he had bled out too much and needed to recover, but since he couldn't feel the pain or understand the need to hold still, he moved too much and kept tearing at his stitches, which resulted in him losing _more_ blood. They'd made him sleep so that he wouldn't move, which allowed his body to recover.

"Well, there's really not much to go over, other than telling you that-"

"I need to stay here for a while longer because there are tests that you have to run now that I'm awake."

Dr. Hofferson blinked, then nodded. "You _really_ know your stuff, Kurt."

Kurt shrugged his shoulders. "I've been in the hospital a lot, and with every accident, whether it be minor or major, I have to do those tests. I've just remembered everything that the previous doctors have told me from my other visits to the hospital."

His dad took his hand. "We've just... We've been through this a lot. Um... How long will these tests take? I'd really like to take him back home."

Dr. Hofferson gave them a sympathetic smile. "You should be able to take him home at the end of the week, I believe. The tests and their results shouldn't take too long."

Kurt nodded and was about to ask another question when he yawned. "I think I'm gonna fall back asleep, Dad," he slurred out, his eyes already closing.

"Go to sleep, Kurt. I'll be here when you wake up."

He was about ready to just let everything vanish as he fell asleep, but he wondered, suddenly, about his friends and if they knew if he was okay; if _Blaine_ knew that he was okay. "Dad – my friends-"

"I've talked with them, don't worry, Kurt."

"'Mmkay. Good night."

And he fell asleep.

{*}

"Are you gunna sing anot'er song?"

The speaker was a little girl, whose head was shaved because of the chemotherapy she was currently undergoing. Smiling down at her, Blaine nodded. "Yeah, we are," he told her softly, bending down so that they were eye to eye. "We're just going down to the cafeteria so that we can eat lunch. We're all _so_ hungry, you know?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I know! I get hungry lots!" She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she wandered off to continue playing with the other children in the ward.

"Oh no," he heard Wes say behind him.

"What?" he asked, standing up and turning. "What did I do?"

"You had that look on your face," Wes said, grinning.

"What look?"

"The one that usually comes with the 'Kids like that are the reason I'm going into medicine' sentence that comes out of your mouth when you're in hospitals. Isn't that why you were thinking of studying about cancer in college?"

Blaine shrugged. That had been his original plan, but then he'd met Kurt and realized how _much_ _more_ there was about medicine and sickness and diseases that he could learn. "I think that I'm going to just study medicine and see which area I like the best after that. I mean, there's _so_ much out there," he said as the group of Warblers left the cancer ward and headed through the recovery ward and towards the stairs.

"There is a lot out there," David agreed, sidling up beside them both. "That girl looked like she had a crush on you, Blaine. How come you always get the hot chicks wanting you?"

Blaine laughed, glad to have a reason to for the first time in a while. With Kurt ignoring him, he hadn't been in the best of moods. He was about to reply to David, to tell him that it was just his natural charm, when a boy with brown hair walked in front of their group, heading down the other hall. Normally, Blaine wouldn't have really cared about the boy with the brown hair, but this one looked different than the other boys with brown hair.

Blaine did know quite a lot of tall, brown haired boys, so normally he would have been confused as to why this boy drew his attention, but _this_ one looked so much like...

_Kurt?_

His eyes narrowing, Blaine started walking towards the corner the boy had turned. He'd only taken a few steps, however, when David stepped in front of him. "Blaine, we need to head down to the cafeteria."

"I'll be down there in a moment," he said, trying to sidestep David so that he wouldn't lose sight of the boy.

"No, Blaine. _Now._"

"I just need to run to the bathroom," Blaine said, his eyes darting left and right, looking for the boy who had looked so much like Kurt. It seemed to Blaine that the he had gone towards the elevators. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

He took off before David could say anything else, then booked it towards the elevators. "Hold the door!" He called out as the elevator doors started to close. He dashed inside, then held a hand out against the wall as he breathed in and out quickly to catch his breath. Once he was sure that he could breathe again, he stood up straight, fixed his blazer, and then turned to face the boy that he now _knew_ was Kurt.

Kurt, who's eyes were wide and looking at the ground, who looked like he was going to start biting his lip at any second. Kurt, who was wearing a _hospital gown_ and had the medical check in wrist band, and bruises over his body and face and-

"_Kurt_..." he breathed out, wanting to take those few steps forward and wrap Kurt in his arms. "What... What _happened?_"

Kurt let out a small sigh. "I was in a car accident."

And suddenly, everything seemed to make sense – why Kurt never answered his text messages, and why his phone calls kept going straight to Kurt's voice-mail. "Your phone was broken, huh?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry that I couldn't contact you, but first my dad said that he'd contacted all of my friends, but then I learned that he'd forgotten about you, and then I learned that my phone was completely ruined and I don't have your number memorized and there's _quite _a few Anderson's in the phone book... I'm sorry."

Blaine then decided to take those few steps forward. He placed a tentative hand on Kurt's shoulder, then leaned in close. "There's no need to apologize. I'm just glad that you're okay."

Kurt nodded, then let out a relieved sigh. "I'm only here longer because there's a lot of tests that they have to run with me. My friend, Rachel – she was in the car with me – she was discharged four days after the accident. I'm just glad that she only had a broken ankle and a concussion."

Blaine glanced down at the cast on Kurt's right arm. "You broke your arm, then?"

Kurt shook his arm. "Yeah, I did," he said bluntly. Then he looked up and caught Blaine's gaze. Blaine was surprised by how beautiful he thought Kurt's eyes were. "What are you doing all the way down here?"

Grinning, Blaine informed Kurt about how the Warblers were singing to the cancer ward, mostly to the younger children. "We're probably going to end up staying longer than planned, though. Those kids are adorable and always manage to drag Thad, Wes, and David into playing games with them and coloring."

Kurt laughed, then gave Blaine a gentle nudge. "You just don't want to admit that they pull _you_ in more than the other three, huh?"

Blaine flushed. "Possibly."

They fell into a nice silence, one that stayed when the elevator door opened. Kurt stepped out first, then turned back to Blaine. "My room is on this floor, or do you have to go...?"

Blaine shook his head and followed Kurt down the hallway, knowing that he _did_ have to go back eventually. But right now, he was just glad to learn that Kurt was okay. "When do you get released from the hospital? I know you've told me many times that you don't like them."

Kurt sighed as he heaved himself onto his hospital bed, shifting a little bit before lying down. "This Friday. But, my dad has a busy weekend, so it's going to be just me at the house. Which means – movie marathon, seeing as I can't do much for a while."

"All alone, though?" Blaine pouted, not exactly sure why he was asking, but it earned a laugh out of Kurt, so he had to figure that it counted for something.

"Sadly, yes."

Blaine _really_ didn't know why he mentioned it, but it came shooting out of his mouth before his brain really had time to process his thought process. "Well, why don't you come over to my house? I'm alone this weekend, too. Little siblings are gone as well. We can be lonely together...?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him, then shifted on his bed. "Are you trying to convince me to come over, or yourself that it's a good idea?"

Blaine shrugged, a grin spreading on his face. "You to come over. I don't know why it came out as a question."

Kurt shuffled around on his bed a bit more, looking flustered. "I don't get asked to come over to other people's houses that often, sorry," he muttered before locking gazes with Blaine. "I'll have to ask my dad, see if it's okay for me to make that drive – but if he says I can't go over to your house, would you like to come over to mine?"

Blaine hummed, then sat down in the empty chair next to Kurt's bed. "How about I just come over to your house then? Would you be okay with that?"

The way that Kurt's eyes and face lit up made Blaine's hear jump. Kurt just looked so _beautiful_.

_Oh god... This is actually happening, isn't it? I find Kurt Hummel ridiculously attractive and -_

He cut his thoughts off as Kurt nodded happily. "Yeah, yeah I'd absolutely love that, Blaine."

Blaine grinned, then took Kurt's hand (the one without the I.V) in his own two hands. "Great. Just let me know what time and I'll-"

"Blaine?"

Both boys turned to the door to see Sebastian leaning against the door frame in what he probably thought was an inviting manor. Blaine stood up from his seat, but kept Kurt's hand in his; Kurt sat up straighter and pulled the hospital blanket up closer to his chest. "Sebastian? What are you doing here?"

Sebastian moved his arm from the door frame and sauntered into the room, smirk on his face; Kurt glared at him the entire time. "I was sent to come find you. You've been gone quite a while."

Blaine frowned. "How did you find me?"

Sebastian's smirk grew. "All I had to do was ask the nurses if they'd seen a sexy, short, dark haired boy in a blazer walk by. Pretty simple. One said they'd seen you coming in here with a patient so I-" Sebastian drew off, seeming to finally recognize Kurt from the day that Kurt had gone to Dalton to get his wallet back. "Oh," he said. "It's you."

"It's me," Kurt said, his glare on a full power. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave my room. It's a private one, and you entered without permission."

Sebastian's smirk seemed to fall. "But what about Blaine?"

"Blaine is in here because I like him. You, however, will never have that luxury, so I'm going to ask you again. Please leave."

"Blaine? We need to get back to the group," Sebastian said, dropping the flirty demeanor that he'd had when he'd entered the room.

Blaine sighed. "Look, Sebastian. I appreciate you coming to... _find_ me but, I'm going to spend a few more minutes talking to Kurt. I haven't seen him in a while, so I'd like to catch up with him. I'd appreciate it if you informed the council of this, though," he said, turning his body back to face Kurt, completely ignoring the icy glare that Sebastian shot Kurt. "I'll be down there in time for the second performance, though."

Then an idea popped into his head. "Kurt?"

Kurt pulled his eyes away from Sebastian's retreating figure and looked back at Blaine. "Yeah?"

"Do you think that it would be okay for you and your body to come to the cancer ward to see the performance? I'd like you to be there."

Kurt blinked rapidly at him for a moment. "R-really? You'd like for me to see your performance?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah! I mean, I was going to have you come to one of them anyway, but we're both _here_ so it's more convenient?"

Kurt let out a giggle, one that made Blaine's already quickly beating heart beat faster. "Sure, I'd love to see a performance. I'll probably have to go in a wheel-chair, though, otherwise I might get in trouble. Getting in trouble could make it so that I have to stay a few extra days for more tests, so..." He leaned over and pressed a red button next to his bed. "I'm going to have my nurse push me down there," he said as he swung his legs over the side of his bed.

A red haired nurse walked in about a minute later. "Yes, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt, who was already sitting in his wheel-chair, grinned at her. "I know that you're going on break, but I was wondering if you would be willing to wheel me down to the cancer ward? I can do it myself if you need to-"

She shook her head. "Nope, no can do, especially with your arm." She glanced at Blaine, then at Kurt. "Oh, you want to see the performance. This is _awesome_," she said as she took the wheel-chair in hand and began to push him out of the room. "I was trying to find a way to sneak down to the earlier performance, but I couldn't," she told Blaine as they walked to the elevators. "Everyone here loves it when people come and perform. Makes the day seem ten times better; you get the sick to smile."

Blaine shrugged, a blush growing heavily on his face. "We do what we can, miss."

"Oh, you're precious," she said.

Kurt twisted around in his seat and gave Blaine a wide grin. "He is, isn't' he?"

Well, if_ Kurt_ thought he was precious, then who was Blaine to argue the matter?

The majority of the Warblers were already in the cancer wing, chatting with each other or some of the patients when Blaine and Kurt joined them.

"I'm going to stay near the door," Kurt said to him, pulling Blaine down closer so that he didn't have to talk long; Kurt smelled really good, Blaine noticed. _Really_ good. "If an MRI room opens up early, I'm going to have to leave so..."

Blaine nodded. "I completely understand."

Kurt waved him off, then turned to start chatting with the nurse; Blaine looked back over his shoulder and couldn't help but smile at the look of happiness on Kurt's face.

"What is _he_ doing here?"

Blaine smile vanishing from his face, he turned to face Sebastian, who wasn't even looking at him; he was looking at Kurt, a rather large frown on his face. "He's here because I wanted him to be here. He's my friend," he said firmly, like that would settle what 'problem' that Sebastian had. He wasn't sure _why_ Sebastian didn't like Kurt – Sebastian _had_ to know that Blaine wasn't interested in a relationship with the other Warbler. Blaine had told him so in many ways.

Sebastian's frowned deepened. "Isn't he competition, though? Don't you think that it's _unwise_ to have him here?"

Blaine sighed. "No, I don't think it's unwise, because the songs that we sing here aren't ones that we'd sing in competition anyway. You're _way_ too tense, Sebastian. You need to calm down."

And then Sebastian's frown was gone, and the smirk that he normally had on when around Blaine was back. "Why don't you help me calm down, then? I was thinking that, this weekend, you and I could-"

Blaine shook his head. "My weekend is booked, actually."

The frown was back. "Let me guess – _Kurt_."

"Yup," Blaine stated, turning away from the Warbler to find Jeff.

"_Wonderful_," he heard Sebastian say behind him, but he decided to ignore it. He glanced back over towards the door, at Kurt, to see the boy with a little girl (around the age of nine, he assumed), in his lap; the two were talking, smiles on their faces, and Blaine couldn't tear his gaze away.

"Blaine," he heard Wes call out a few minutes later. "Are you ready to perform?"

Nodding, Blaine grabbed Wes' sleeve. "I'd like to put Teenage Dream on the list – the first song, if that's okay."

Wes blinked. "Sure," he said. "But... why?"

Blaine shrugged. "We have older patients now, lots of them are thirteen and older in here, so I thought they'd like to hear something they listen to everyday." Without thinking, he glanced over his shoulder and back at Kurt. Beside him, Wes let out a snicker. "What?"

"Sure, _older patients_. But yeah, we can do Teenage Dream. I'll spread the word that it's first."

"Thanks, Wes," Blaine said, before he started psyching himself up for the performance. He _really_ wanted it to be one Kurt would remember.

{*}

"Hello everyone!" Blaine suddenly called out, pulling Kurt from his talk with the little girl in his lap.

"Is it startin'?" The girl asked, and Kurt nodded, nudging her to get off of his lap.

"Yes, it is. Why don't you go up closer so you can see better?"

She grinned, then hopped off of his lap and skipped up to the nearest table, Kurt watching her happily as she went.

"My name is Blaine Anderson," Blaine continued to say, that one grin on his face (the one that made Kurt's heart speed up). "And we are the Dalton Academy Warblers. We've got about six songs to sing for you guys. I hope that you enjoy!"

He stepped away from the center of the stage, then nodded at the guys behind him to begin.

Kurt had never really listened to A Capella groups before, preferring to listen to Broadway performances, pop music, and sometimes rock and roll. _But_, he thought to himself as the Warblers began to perform_. This is really, _really_ neat._

It was Teenage Dream, one of Kurt's favorite songs and-

He blinked and jerked back slightly when he realized that Blaine was _staring at him_. He glanced around to see if there was anyone beside him, but no – it was just him and his nurse standing by the door and _Blaine still hadn't taken his eyes off of him_.

_Oh god, if I could blush I bet I'd be looking like a tomato right now_, he thought to himself when he realized that Blaine probably wasn't going to be looking at anyone else during that song. _Blaaaaaaaine_, he whined to himself. _Stop this, because you're making me fall for you and that relationship will probably not happen_.

But then, when the song was over and everyone was clapping, Blaine winked at him, and Kurt found himself thanking his inability to blush for what would probably not be the last time in his life.

_I'm falling for you_, he told the Blaine in his mind. _I'm falling for you _so_ hard.__Every time we spend together I'm going to keep falling for you, huh? That's how it's going to work for us, right?_

Blaine took to the back of the group and allowed a brown haired boy to take center stage. He caught Kurt's gaze, then held up a thumb, his face questioning. Kurt nodded, holding up two thumbs; Blaine's grin was contagious and Kurt found his eyes closing as he smiled so hard he was able to make himself think that it was hurting him because he was _so fucking happy_.

_If this is how it's going to be with us, I think that I'll be okay with that_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's notes:<strong>_...

This chapter just wouldn't let me write it. Probably because there isn't a lot of plot in there, except the boys are becoming even more smitten and have a semi-Maybe it's a date, maybe we're just going to hang out, but even if it's not a date I'm still sitting next to a fucking _hot_ boy- kind of thing going on. So yay for progress, you guys! **yay for progress.**

I hope that you enjoyed; please let me know if you liked it!

A huge thanks needs to go out to me beta, the lovely Kendall. (she deserves an entire planet for dealing with me, seriously)

Lots of love, and I'll see you in the next chapter-

UO


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:**_I do not own Glee.

_**Medical disclaimer: **_I am not, in any way, an expert when it comes to the medical condition, CIPA. I only know what my research has taught me.

* * *

><p>"Is there a reason for this?" he asked as his wheelchair was rolled out of the hospital entrance. He looked over his shoulder at Blaine, who had a rather pleased grin on his face. "No, really, I'm seeing you <em>this weekend<em>."

Blaine just grinned harder. "You told me over the phone that you were tired and bored of the same surroundings, and since you're getting checked out tomorrow, where you will be forced to stay in your house, I figured that you'd want to get some fresh air for a while."

Kurt shifted in his seat, moving his broken arm from the arm rest to his lap. "Okay, I'll take that reason, but can you explain the blanket?" he asked, prodding at the thick, wool blanket that had been draped over him after he'd gotten into the wheelchair.

"It's getting really cold out, so it's better to be safe than sorry, right?"

Kurt hummed, then leaned forwards slightly, puffed his cheeks, then blew the air out; he could see it, which meant that Blaine was right. Looking over to the left, he saw the small garden with a bench that Blaine was probably taking him, thinking. "Hey," he started out softly.

"Yeah?"

"What's it like to be cold?"

Blaine paused his walking for a minute, and when Kurt looked over his right shoulder he could see Blaine's eyes furrowed and his lips pursed as he thought. "I don't... I don't know if I can describe it, because it's something that my body just feels naturally, you know? And since you've never experience what hot and cold and normal are, I don't think I could give you a good description..." He paused again, then seemed to get an idea; he pulled his scarf off as well as his coat. He piled them up on Kurt's lap, then took hold of the handles of the wheelchair again.

Kurt let out a laugh. "What... What are you doing?"

"Proving a point," was his reply.

"And what point is that? That you're an idiot?"

Blaine let out a chuckle, his head falling down to land on top of Kurt's. "No," he said in between laughs. Then he sighed, small smile still there, and gave Kurt a lopsided grin. "No, I guess I AM just being an idiot."

"Yes, you are," Kurt replied, holding out Blaine's scarf for him to take.

Blaine didn't take it, though; once they were near the bench, he parked Kurt's wheelchair in front of it, then moved to sit in front of Kurt. "Observe me."

Kurt blinked. "Wha-what?"

Blaine grinned. "I want you to observe me while we talk; I'm going to start getting cold soon, and so my body will start showing signs that I'm getting cold: I'll shake, I'll get goosebumps; this way, you can decide for yourself what you think being cold and feeling cold is like."

Kurt frowned. "You sound like my dad when I ask him for help on an assignment: 'here's what I think, Kurt, but you need to figure out what _you_think by yourself'. You couldn't just give me a straight up answer?"

"Because I'm stubborn like that," he teased. "But really, I have no way to describe it. It's like asking someone to describe a piece of music – you have to hear it to understand how amazing it is. In this case, you can see how _horrible_ it is."

And so Kurt watched Blaine's body as they talked. They really just talked about the stupid things in their lives, Blaine telling Kurt all about school and the Warblers, and Kurt telling Blaine a little bit about the dynamic of New Directions while watching as Blaine's shoulders eventually began to shake, as the skin on his arms began to get goosebumps.

It looked uncomfortable, he reasoned with himself as the air puffed out of Blaine's mouth as they talked, his rather tempting looking mouth. "You're shivering rather hard," he stated once Blaine had been shivering for ten minutes straight. "I think I get it, so you can put your coat back on."

"You think you get it?"

"Yes; it's uncomfortable – I've been uncomfortable before, so I guess that I understand."

"Oh thank god," Blaine stated, and he dove for his coat and scarf, scrambling to put them on, Kurt laughing as he did so. "Okay, so... back to the question: you're getting checked out tomorrow, right? At what time?"

Kurt cocked his head to the side, thinking. "I think my dad is coming to get me at around noon-ish, possibly sooner."

Blaine's face fell a little bit. "Oh, so I'll be in school then."

Kurt couldn't help the small grin that appeared on his face. "You'll be seeing me later in the day, Blaine."

"I can't spend more time with you?"

"I didn't say that," he said, tilting his head to the side to give Blaine a pointed look. However, Blaine didn't smile like he thought he would. Instead he was frowning, his hands moving to undo his scarf from his neck.

Blaine leaned forward, his face serious as he began to wrap his scarf around Kurt's neck. "Ah," he said as he brushed his hand against Kurt's skin. "I had a feeling that your body was getting cold."

Kurt blinked, inhaling quickly and resisting the want to swoon because Blaine smelled _incredibly_ good. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I just had a feeling that your body might be cold, and you are _pretty_ cold to the touch." He stood up from the bench then glanced at his watch. "I think I should take you back in; I need to get going soon."

Kurt nodded, although he really didn't want Blaine to leave. "Okay... Thank you for taking me out here – it was nice to get out of the hospital."

"Of course."

On the way back, Kurt cocked his head to the side and asked, "Is it supposed to hurt if your rip out your IV on accident?"

Blaine took a moment to respond. "Uh... yeah, it is. Why?"

Kurt rolled his tongue in his mouth. "Huh... I thought so. Because I did it this morning in my haste to get to the bathroom on time. I've wet the bed too many times in the hospital because I've missed my check by a few minutes, I didn't want to do it again... I _really_ have no idea why I told you that. I really don't."

_Oh god... I hate my mouth when I ramble, because I have no filter and say everything, and what if he thinks I'm just this weird little person and-_

The laugh that came out of Blaine's mouth had Kurt sitting up farther in his wheelchair. "What?"

Blaine's head appeared next to his, that gorgeous smile that had been on his face the entire time still there. "You're just really funny, and to be honest with you, I'm really glad that you're comfortable telling me the embarrassing sides of you."

Kurt smiled at him, but then attempted to fold his arms; it was awkward with the cast. "I think I've hit my embarrassing stories mark. You still have yet to tell me an embarrassing story."

Blaine's face vanished from his shoulder. "Ah... well... I guess – I had a crush on Wes once!"

Kurt blinked. "You _what?_ On _Wes?"_

Blaine's head fell against his shoulder, his nose pressed up against Kurt's neck. _Oh god... If I could blush, I'd be so red right now._

"Yes, yes, I had a crush on him. I was young, naive, and thought he was a good role model. How wrong I was, right?"

"I can't believe it was _Wes. _David, I could understand, but _Wes?_"

"Yeah, yeah," Blaine grumbled into his neck as they moved into the hospital and towards the elevator. "I know. I was a child who was misled to believe that Wes was a good person."

"And who were you misled by?"

"Wes."

Kurt laughed the entire way back up to his room, and when Blaine left him with a hug (and told him to keep the scarf), he still had the biggest smile he'd ever had on his face. He was sure that if he could feel it, his cheeks would be aching in pain from smiling so much.

..

"I'm only going to be gone for two days tops."

"Okay, Dad."

"I'm only going to be moving stuff from the garage."

"Okay, Dad."

"I'll have my office phone on at all times."

"Okay, Dad."

"I'll also have my cell phone on and with me at all times."

"_Dad_."

His dad turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You're being the over-concerned parent right now," Kurt said, glancing down at his phone to see what time it was; in one hour he'd have to go use the restroom and then eat.

His dad sighed. "You were in an accident not too long ago, Kurt. I just don't want you to accidentally over work yourself and injure yourself again."

Kurt gave his dad a tired smile. "I'm probably just going to do a Big Band Theory marathon and then do my usual checkups when it's time."

Burt nodded, then began to head for the door. "I'll call you after three hours, alright? If you don't answer-"

Kurt let out a small laugh. "I know, I know, you'll rush home to make sure I'm okay and not lying on the ground, bleeding to death."

"_Hey_," his dad said sternly. Once he reached the door, he ran a hand over his pockets to make sure he had everything before he headed out of the door. "I'll call!"

Kurt saluted him with his arm that wasn't in a cast, then settled down on the couch with his blanket and body pillow. Once he was situated, bundled up in his blanket, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, immediately settling down once the show was on. Sometimes he really enjoyed being by himself – he didn't have to listen to his father fussing over him (he loved his dad, he really did, but it got incredibly annoying).

His day went by quickly, and he fell asleep a few times; the last time he'd woken up, he realized he'd missed a check time and hurried to the bathroom, where he discovered that he'd _really_ had to go to the bathroom. _That would have been so very embarrassing,_ he thought to himself as he washed his hands. Glancing at the clock, he grinned when he realized that Blaine would be out of his last class finally – he could call him and ask about the out of the bathroom he began to get everything ready for the night.

A night.

With Blaine.

He paused in his preparations and smiled. He was falling, _hard_. And he was happy about it, so, _so_ happy.

There was a skip in his step as he went through his list one last time. It slowly vanished over time, though, and as he was finishing up, he wondered why someone like _Blaine_ would ever be interested in _him_.

..

_Order pizza._

Check.

_Have napkins out._

Check.

_Movies._

Check.

_Panic attack done and over with_?

...not so much.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt doubled checked what he'd prepared, then mentally slapped his head and told himself to calm down.

_It's just Blaine, _he told himself.

But that was the problem. It was _Blaine_. Kurt _liked him_. As in, "Hey, Blaine. Let's go out together, and then let out tongues get _really_ acquainted with each other. Does that sound like a plan?"

_Well, that's just not going to happen_, he told himself as he added three new movies to the pile he'd picked out earlier that day. Even _if_ Blaine had the slightest interest in him (_which_, Kurt scoffed, _why would he?_) he didn't have an idea of how long he could kiss before his body started heating up, and what if he overheated and collapsed and wouldn't that just be fitting?

"You're stressing yourself out, Kurt. You're just watching a few movies with him. That's it."

He calmed himself down, then promptly left the room to triple check everything for the night.

_Oh my god, I'm so fucked._

_.._

_I can't believe this_, Blaine thought to himself as he stared down at his paper, trying to fully comprehend what he was looking at. His grip on the paper tightened and he blinked rapidly

_D_

Blaine stared at the paper, glancing over the mess of red marks on his exam. "I..."

His teacher gave him a look of pity as she linked her fingers together on the top of her desk. "Mr. Anderson – is there something that you'd like to talk about? In your history of being at Dalton, you've never gotten below a B on anything; is there something that-"

Blaine bit his lip, considered for a second that maybe telling her would be okay, but then he shook his head. "No... I must have just had an off day. Is there some type of extra credit that I could do to make up the average?"

She smiled. "I'm sure that I could come up with something." She took his paper from him and placed it back on her file. "Go have a good weekend, Blaine. You deserve it, okay?"

He nodded, thanking her before he gripped his bag and left the room. He was still slightly shocked that he'd almost _failed_ that exam, but he knew the reason why. He just didn't want to think about it; he didn't have the _time_ to think about it. Especially not at the moment. Because he was going over to Kurt's – they were going to spend the night alone, and possibly...

_Possibly..._

"Hey, buddy, how are you doing?"

Blaine inwardly sighed. "Sebastian," he said, plastering a strained smile on his face. "What are you doing?"

Sebastian was smirking, like he always was when Blaine saw him, with his hands in his pocket, his blazer open and tie slightly loose. "I'm just on my way to go to Scandals and was wondering if you wanted-"

"Sebastian, I've already _told_ you that I'm doing something tonight. I don't know why you keep asking me to do stuff - "

Sebastian's smirk slipped. "You're seeing that Kurt kid, huh? What, are you dating him or something?"

Blaine held his head up high. "Or something."

"How about we-"

Blaine's patience was starting to run thin. "Look, Sebastian. I need to get going, okay?"

Sebastian's smirk appeared. "Sure you do, Blaine. I'll see you on Monday, or maybe sooner?"

Blaine gave him a hesitant smile. "Yeah. Sure."

He waited until Sebastian was gone before he allowed himself to smile as he pulled his phone out. _I'll be there in under two hours, _he sent to Kurt as he headed out of Dalton. He'd packed before hand, not wanting to be in his home at the moment, and also because, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to spend more time with Kurt. Kurt made him feel alive most of the time, which he hadn't felt in a rather long time. For the longest time he'd just wanted to withdraw from everything happy, bright and emotional. But with Kurt, he wanted _all_ of the emotions, all of the happiness – the love, the sadness, the laughter; all of it.

He was just getting into his car when his phone buzzed with a text message.

_I'm excited! I ordered us pizza – and what type of movie would you like to watch? Humor, action, musical, ones with characters that have questionable sanity? -Kurt_

Blaine grinned, a short laugh falling from his lips as he quickly dialed Kurt's number. "Hey," he said once Kurt answered the phone. "I'm driving; what did you mean questionable sanity?"

Kurt laughed, a laugh that made Blaine's hear flutter. "_I mean ones where you wonder why you're cheering for the supposed good guy."_

"Do you have any like that?"

"_I have Repo! The Genetic Opera._"

Blaine hummed. "That sounds good; any superhero movies?"

"_...does Kick Ass count?"  
><em>

Blaine laughed as he moved the phone to his other hand. "Yes, yes, that one counts. That one first?"

"_Okay. The pizza should be here by the time you get here."_

"_Good_, because I am _starving_."

"_I'll see you soon, Blaine!"_

"Bye, Kurt!"

The drive to Kurt's was done with the radio blasting and Blaine singing at the top of his lungs; it had been way too long since he'd done that, and he couldn't lie to himself and say that it hadn't felt good. He was pulling up into Kurt's driveway when his phone rang out, signaling that he had a text message. He parked the car, humming under his breath as he killed the engine and grabbed his phone.

Once he'd read the text message, his smile vanished from his face and his good mood disappeared completely.

_Not now... not today._

_.._

Blaine had been rather quiet throughout the night, Kurt noticed as they laid on the couch, watching as Hit Girl killed yet another mob member. "Blaine?" he asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? O-oh, yeah, I am. I'm just tired; it's been a long day."

Kurt nodded, knowing that Blaine was lying, but also knowing that Blaine would tell him later if he felt that he could. Kurt, however, wasn't worrying about that. He was trying to build up his courage to just ask Blaine out, to just do it and get it over with. Blaine didn't seem like the forward type to him (at least, he wasn't sure – Blaine had been labeled as 'Can Be Oblivious' in Kurt's mind), and Kurt just wanted to know if it was a possibility.

"Blaine?" he asked again.

"Yeah?"

"So... um. I was wondering," Kurt began, not looking up at Blaine, and instead choosing to study his fingers. "Do you maybe, I don't know, want to go out to eat sometime?"

_God, what a way to ask him, Kurt. Be more freaked out, why don't you._

Blaine let out a breath. "You mean... like a date?"

Kurt nodded quickly, waiting.

And then Blaine spoke. "Oh, Kurt..."

Well, that hadn't been what he'd been wanting to hear.

He felt Blaine pull him into a hug and he _swore_ he felt Blaine press a kiss to his head, but there was a part of him that was unsure. "Kurt, I really wish I could, but not right now, okay?" There was an exhale of breath. "It's not you, it's just that there's a lot going on in my life right now and..."

Kurt was suddenly pulled out of the hug and found himself staring right at Blaine's face. "To make it so that you don't feel like it's because I'm not interested, I am _so_ interested in going on a date with you, Kurt, so _very_ interested. It's just..." Blaine bit his lip, which made Kurt, in turn, want to kiss him. "Right now is _not_ a good time and..." With a sigh, Blaine leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Kurt's forehead. "Give me two weeks, okay? Then ask again. You'll have your answer then for sure, okay?"

Kurt nodded, and they went back to watching movies together as friends that wanted more.

Two weeks later, Kurt asked again.

Blaine said no.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's notes:<strong>_Well.

...

It's been a long time, huh?

I'm sorry about that, I just had absolutely NO idea of how to get this chapter to flow and it was killing me, so I took a break. BUT the creative juices are flowing again, and here's an update!

:D

... :D

Anyway, please let me know what you thought! I always love hearing from the people reading this fic; it makes my heart grow, which is a rather fun and odd feeling.

:D

Lots of love,

UO


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